


Seven

by SilverJuniper



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Injury, Body Image, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Worth Issues, Touch-Starved, Whump, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 81,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverJuniper/pseuds/SilverJuniper
Summary: Warren's fighting days are over, a single battle taking everything but his life from him.  But an offer from the king gives him one last chance to protect and serve the kingdom he loves.  He'll do whatever it takes to help end the war, even wear the title of consort.  Along the way, he will find healing, family, and love.Inspired by this post, cause it was awesome and infected my brain and ran away with me.https://beka-tiddalik.tumblr.com/post/188339554540/fake-relationship-but-its-a-king-and-his-concubine
Relationships: Warren/King Aaron
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38





	1. Wrath and Mercy

Cold

It was in the wind whispering across his skin. It was in the seeping mud. It was in the wicked steel that had carved into his hip and rent him down to the calf. It was numbing his fingers until he could no longer feel them.

And he wasn't sure how it was possible to be cold and burn at the same time, but he was managing it.

There was heat along his wound where blood flowed. His ribs burned with every breath, broken from when he had fallen from his horse and then been trampled. Breath heated his lips and fogged as it escaped him, making him feel bits of his soul was taking leave of his body.

White hot icy fear rippled across his skin as he watched the ball of burning pitch come rolling across the battlefield towards him. Frigid fire licked him and made it impossible to move, helpless to do anything more than watch as it rolled over him.

And then he really was on fire.

Things became jumbled after that. He could make out voices, but no words. The screams, his own and those of the men around him, deafened him. The medical tent faded in and out. It was hard to breathe, like there was something sitting on his chest crushing him.

He still burned and froze.

For a moment he woke. His body tensed in panic and then screamed in pain. His own scream tore from his throat and someone rushed him. He was reaching for his sword instinctively, and the fact that it wasn't there broke something in him. Then the darkness reclaimed him.

The next time he woke up, he kept his eyes closed and forced himself to stay calm. His body was bathed in sweat and he trembled with cold. Fever. Everything hurt. Voices around him, speaking softly but not to him, let him learn no one had much hope he would survive. They were just waiting for him to finally succumb to the fever or any of his wounds and die. As he drifted out, he wondered if that wouldn't be such a bad idea.

The fever dreams plagued him. Because the waking world wasn't enough it seemed. He stood on that battlefield, steel horses charging him to run him down. Faceless armies crashed in a jumble, so he didn’t know which side was his own, flying no standards and wearing the colors of blood and mud. He lay in the muck, men silent where they lay next to him, all in neat rows for burial. He blinked up at the shrouded form of Death and managed to speak in a grating whisper.

"Did we win?"

"You did. Won the battle and saved a thousand men."

"So, are you here to collect a thousand souls out of me?"

A low chuckle issues from the hooded form. "Just to talk. How did you know the trap was there?"

He swallowed, mouth dry and tongue sticky. His throat clicked and he rasped. "It was...good tactics."

"Thirsty?"

His brow furrowed, confused. He blinked and the grey sky above him faded into the dingy medical tent. Death's shroud billowed and slid away, revealing a ruggedly handsome face. Neatly trimmed beard, hair black as night, smiling brown eyes, familiar features though he knew they had never met. As was evident by the gold circlet upon the man’s head.

He swallowed hard, eyes widening. "You- Your Majesty!" His body tightened, trying to bow or scrape or maybe just fall off his cot and hope the earth swallowed him. Pain flared and he didn't manage to move an inch. Gasping, he forced himself to breathe through the pain and relax.

"Rest. Don't try to move." The king cast a look over one shoulder and had an attendant fetch water. A cup was quickly delivered to him and he turned back, shifting the little stool he occupied that much closer. The kings warm hand slipped beneath his head, lifting him so he could drink the water pressed to his chapped lips. He took it all in, wondering if he was still dreaming. And why he would be dreaming the king attending his bedside. When the water was gone, the king gently settled him back and retreated again.

"There. Better?"

He nodded, because what else could he do?

"Good. Now, you know me. Care to tell me your name?"

"Warren."

"I've heard a lot about you Warren." He smiled when Warren flinched, already well aware what the king might have heard. He continued anyways. "By all accounts you’ve been an excellent recruit; a good fighter, following orders without complaint, a model soldier. Until a few days ago when you made a complete change. You broke rank and defied orders, stole twenty horses to mount yourself and your company, then charged an ambush of five hundred men lying in wait for the thousand men you left behind. And then, not only do you kill all five hundred enemy soldiers, but you and three of your men make it back to tell the tale."

Warren stiffens. "It was my idea. I know I deserve an execution for the mutiny but please, Your Majesty, spare my brothers! They never would have done it if I hadn't made them. Please, Your Majesty, I'll take on whatever punishments pleases you if you'll spare them!"

The king had started shushing soothingly near the beginning of Warren’s begging but it's the warm hand slipping into Warren’s shaky one that gets his attention. The grip is firm and grounding. Warren struggles to focus and listen as the king speaks.

"I've already forbade any punishments. No one is being executed. Breathe, Warren. You and your men saved an entire army from walking into a trap. I'm here to reward you, not punish you."

Warren swallows. "Reward?"

The king nods, thumb sweeping slowly back and forth across the back of Warren's hand. "A house and lands. Or the monetary equivalent if you prefer. As well as the best medical care the crown can provide without expectation of recompense. And an offer for you."

"Offer?"

"Your acceptance or refusal will have no bearing on the reward given to you. That is yours no matter what you decide. However, I must have you swear you will speak of this offer to no one, regardless of if you accept or decline."

Warren has to take a moment. He hasn't managed to look at his own body yet, but he was still quite certain his fighting days were over. Even if he didn't take into account the punishment for mutiny. But the fear of execution has been lifted and the means to live comfortably instead of dying in a ditch somewhere handed to him in the space of a few sentences. The relief makes him lightheaded. Darkness is threatening to take him again and he fights it back. He nods.

"You have my word, Your Majesty. I won't speak of this offer."

He smiles in satisfaction. A glance and a wave behind him have his hovering guards and attendants expanding their little corner of privacy, discouraging curious ears. The king sobers as he turns back to Warren, leaning in to speak lowly like he's imparting a secret. "No one must know this. But my advisors are idiots."

Warren chokes, wanting to laugh but not sure if he's allowed. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Your Majesty, but most of us know that already." The king frowns and Warren continues, almost apologetically. "The common born anyways. I know there are still those who want to put everything on your shoulders, but most of us know you're fighting a war and your own council to take care of your people."

The king nods soberly, but there's a twinkle of humor in his eyes. "Well, it's nice to know someone recognizes my efforts. But you can see my problem. My council seems to have no idea what real problems my people are suffering. I need people who will be honest and up-front. And preferably give me viable suggestions on solutions to fix these problems. The biggest problem is this war, but you've proved you have a mind for tactics. I think, with your help, I can end this war quickly and concisely."

"So, you want me on the council?"

Frowning, the king shakes his head. "I wish it were that simple. But I'm afraid that sort of move would have us both persecuted. And open you up to sabotage no matter what I say or do to protect you. So no, I can't give you a seat on the council. I intend, if you are agreeable, to hide you in plain sight as my consort."

Warren's mouth falls open but nothing comes out. The king hastens to reassure him, grip tightening around Warren’s own for a moment before the soothing sweep of his thumb resumes. "It will be the title only. I will make no demands of your body or time, other than discussing business of the kingdom. You'll live in the castle with me and have all your needs attended to in exchange for your aide in ending this war."

"But, I'm a man!"

The king's eyes sweep his body, brow furrowing. "Yes. I am aware. I hadn't thought you were a woman in disguise though I know it happens on occasion." He sighs and shakes his head. "I don't care what people think or say about who I take to my bed. My reputation is more easily repaired than the death toll. But only if you are comfortable with it. I don't want you to feel obligated in any way, and I won't make light of the gossip and ridicule you will assuredly face."

Warren stares. He's having trouble focusing again and the darkness is creeping in insistently. He's exhausted, body and mind. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course." The king agrees readily. His hand slips out of Warren's and he gets to his feet, setting the stool aside out of the way. "Take as long as you need and have someone summon me when you have your answer."

Warren gapes. "Me summon you?!"

"Unless you think you'll be leaping from that cot in the next couple days? I think you've exhausted your supply of miracles just surviving, so you'll have to rest and recover on your own. I'm simply suggesting the most logical solution for all involved."

The audacity of summoning the king at his whim still doesn't sit well with him, but he sees the point being made. Warren manages a nod. The king smiles.

"Rest, Warren."

And then he's gone. Or Warren is. He's not sure. The fever rages again, leaving him weak and trembling, unable to stay conscious long enough to fully consider the king’s proposal. Though it's certainly on his mind. His dreams shift, nightmares of the battlefield blending so he finds himself standing naked in Death’s throne room among the endless rank and file of beautiful harem girls. Death beckons him forward out of the army of women, letting him stand alone and bear the humiliation of his broken and mangled body on display for nobles and courtiers to laugh at.

Or he finds himself at the council table, set in the middle of the battlefield as armies rage around them. The councilors stare at him with judgement in their eyes, expecting him to fight and strategize for them, all with a noose about his neck.

He wakes up and bites back a groan. A man notices he is lucid and comes over. "Are you in pain?"

Warren closes his eyes. "Always."

Next to him, he hears the man shifting. When he opens his eyes again, the man has dragged over the stool the king left and no one dared move. He sits, shifting the blanket to reveal Warren's leg. A foul-smelling unguent is brought out of the bag at the man’s hip and applied to the wound spanning hip to calf. Warren hisses in pain, then moans in relief as the area begins to go numb. His eyes roll and close, the cessation of pain such sweet pleasure.

The man deftly continues his work, spreading the relief until Warren can actually think again. Warren studies the man. It’s obvious he’s comfortable in the role of caretaker, despite being relatively young. His dark blonde hair is cropped short to keep it out of the way and his sleeves are rolled up for the same. Age has only just begun to crinkle around his eyes, but his every move belies a confidence of so many more years than that.

Warren swallows and takes a couple deep breaths before he has enough courage to ask, "how bad is it?"

The man glances up at him, then back at his work. "The leg or all of you?"

Hesitating, Warren debates. "Start with the leg. I'll stop you if I can't take anymore."

Nodding, the man finishes spreading the unguent and puts it away. "With work, you might walk again. Though you'll always have a limp. And I don't know that the pain will ever fully go away." He glances up and continues when Warren nods, pulling the blanket back down. "Your ribs are healing nicely. As for your burns..." He reaches across and pulls bandages away from Warren's hand. Then his wrist and forearm. His shoulder. Warren closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe as the bandages are pulled away from his neck and face.

"You'll scar. I can't do anything about that. Your hand should be usable as long as you stretch it while it heals so the flesh doesn't tighten up too much. Same with your wrist, elbow and shoulder." A gentle touch to angle Warren's head has him opening his eyes. The man nods in satisfaction. "The good news is you've still got both eyes, which was my biggest fear while you were still swollen and blistered."

Warren nodded, feeling dizzy. Lightheaded and nauseous. For a moment he thinks he might have beaten it back. Then the man is deftly helping him twist enough to vomit bile into the trampled grass instead of on himself or his cot. He coughs and spits, trembling and shaking. Sweat dampens his brow, and he chooses to believe the tears are just because of the vomiting.

A hand slips under his neck to lift him enough as a cup is pressed to his lips, bringing back images of the king doing the same. "Rinse first. Then drink the rest." He rinses and spits, then eagerly takes down the cool water. A handkerchief dabs away the sweat and tears and cleans around his mouth. The man settles him again, keen gaze looking for any other signs of distress or pain.

Warren licks his lips and manages a whisper. "Was the king really here?"

"Still is," the man says as he fusses with draping another blanket over him. "Do you need to speak with him?"

Warren shakes his head, already beginning to drift. "Not yet."

"Sleep. Let me know if the pain gets unbearable again."

He's not sure if he manages a nod before he's asleep again. The fever finally breaks. The man, who he learns is named Caleb and is the king’s personal physician, becomes a regular inhabitant of the medical tent. His numbing agent is applied a couple more times, letting Warren get some real sleep. Caleb isn't there to wait hand and foot on Warren alone of course. He cares for the other men in the tent as well, and Warren doesn't begrudge them that at all. Just the knowledge that the man is around is a balm and it takes a little thought before Warren realizes why.

Caleb might be short and gruff, but he doesn't treat Warren and his men like he's just easing their pain before they die. He doesn't smile in their faces and hopelessly shake his head when he thinks they aren't paying attention. They get no empty platitudes from him.

It's disconcerting when Warren wakes and doesn't find Caleb. But it's not as though he urgently needs the medic, so he contents himself to patience. Caleb does have the king to attend to, after all. He's likely a busy man. And Warren has the king’s deal to consider anyways. He can't keep the king waiting on his answer forever. Now that he can stay awake for more than a handful of minutes at a time, he thinks on the problem.

Night falls and the torches are lit. Caleb still hasn't made an appearance. The crackle of flames makes Warren twitch, ice and heat washing over his skin as fear twists in his gut. He struggles not to panic as remembered pain blooms and racks his body with uncontrollable shakes. He dreams of fire and wakes shivering. A scan of the tent provides no glimpse of Caleb.

He asks.

"Oh, he's heading out with the king this morning," the nurse answers. "I think they're leaving now." She reels when Warren panics. "Wh- Wait! You're not supposed to be up yet! Lie down!"

Warren rolls off his cot and breathes deep to combat his entire body protesting. "He can't! I haven't given him my answer yet!"

"Answer? Answer to what?! Get back in bed!" She tries to force him there, but his determination and her reluctance to hurt him further end with him lurching farther from the cot to raid a basket of discarded clothes. She tugs on him again and he shakes her off, snarling at her.

"Either find me something to help me walk or get out of my way!" She huffs and leaves him to it. He upends the basket, managing to find some trousers that will fit. It's a struggle to get them on and he almost blacks out when he tugs too hard on his injured leg, but he manages. Then finds a tunic that counts as serviceable if he ignores the arrow hole in the front and the dried blood all down the back. There's no boots or cloak, but he's sweating enough he doesn't notice the chill of the winter morning. He's just made it up onto his good leg when the nurse comes back. The warning dies on his tongue when he sees she's holding a crutch.

He takes it with a gasp of relief and a kiss to her cheek, then hobbles out of the tent. She points him in the right direction, and he presses as much speed out of his battered body as he possibly can. They have a company of foot soldiers with them and they're not marching in any great hurry, which is the only reason he catches them. The soldiers riding rear guard notice him and call questions. He doesn't answer, his only focus for catching the king. A horn blows as he begins to overtake the foot soldiers.

The column halts their march. The horsemen riding ahead of the foot soldiers take one look at his dogged progress and one of them rides ahead. The blood rushing in his ears begins to block out the voices calling at him. Darkness is creeping in around the edges of his vision. The icy air burns his lungs as he drags it in. But he forces one foot in front of the other in determination to reach his goal.

The return of the horseman, along with two others has him hesitating as they block his path forward. When he recognizes the other two riders as Caleb and the king, he lets out a breath of relief and slumps to his knees, both hands wrapped around his crutch in an effort to remain mostly upright. Darkness creeps in.

He jolts awake and blinks as Caleb pulls the smelling salts from beneath his nose. Warmth surrounds him, and he's just making sense of the rich cloak wrapped mostly around him as Caleb rages at him.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?!"

The low, "peace, Caleb," vibrates through him. The warm breath ruffles his hair and he rolls his head back against the shoulder supporting him to look as Caleb curses, stalking away and back. The arm about his shoulders tightens to keep him steady and brown eyes look back at him with concern. Relief has him going limp and he struggles to focus on delivering his answer.

"What's your answer?"

Warren forces his eyes back open. He hadn't thought he had said anything. He wasn't sure what was going across his mind and what crossed his tongue. But he had an answer and he wanted to tell the king. He wanted to help. He wanted to do whatever he could. He couldn't fight on a battlefield anymore, he could barely stand, but he would do anything the king wanted him to. Fear gripped him that it was too late. The king had left him. Perhaps the offer was no longer available, and he had missed his chance.

The king shushed him, shifting him a bit and wrapping the cloak about him tighter. "No, Warren. It's not too late. Hush now, I understand. I sent you a message, but I have to assume it never got through. I'm going to finish my rounds and then I was coming back. I was just giving you more time to rest and think. Alright?"

"Coming back?"

He nodded. "That's right. You can expect me back in ten days. It was never my intention to leave you behind."

Warren managed a nod and ducked his head against the king’s chest. He was so tired. Darkness was creeping in again. And his toes were cold. A laugh rumbled against him that made him smile.

Arrangements were made for a pair of the horsemen to ride him back to camp and put him back to bed. He collapsed back into his cot, exhausted and uncaring of the scolding the nurse was doing. He was tucked back in and instructed to rest, then the horsemen were leaving to catch up with the rest of the column. Warren slept like the dead.

When he woke next, it was the deep dark of night. He noticed the crutch leaned against the head of his cot. He grasped it and managed to shove it under the edge of his cot, putting it out of sight and therefore less likely to be stolen from him. Just in case he needed to get up and about again.

He slipped in and out, so it was difficult to keep track of the days. His forced march had weakened him again and his fever came back, wracking him with shivers and sweats. His body ached, and some days he was sure he could have sold his soul for some more of Caleb's numbing unguent, but he supposed that was his penance for pushing hard and fast before he was ready for it. The anxiety of being forgotten and abandoned was harder to deal with. Even reminding himself he had heard from the king’s own mouth that he would be back didn't do much to assuage his fears.

His ears finally picked up the sounds of a company riding in one late afternoon. Whispers of the king’s return spread through the camp and had anticipation curling in his gut, tying his stomach into a knot. It wasn't until Caleb ducked into the tent with the king right behind him and the tension eased that he realized just how tightly he'd been wound.

Neither came for him right away. But that was fine. The proof that they were back was enough. The king stopped to talk with the other wounded in the tent, sharing words of encouragement and thanks for service. Caleb checked in with the medic and got a brief accounting of everyone's progress. He made suggestions to the medic and handled a couple things himself. When everyone else had been taken care of, Caleb turned his sharp gaze on Warren. The king slipped over to stand behind his physician and watch quietly.

Warren flinched at the brusque way Caleb snatched the stool over and sat down, flipping his blankets off his leg to check his progress. "Any more ill-advised mile hikes?"

Shaking his head, Warren bit back a hiss as Caleb prodded and manipulated his wounded leg. His fingers clenched into the edges of his cot, mutely taking whatever pain Caleb chose to inflict. He didn't relax when the blankets were pulled back over his leg, and the continued caution proved necessary as Caleb reached across him to lift his burnt hand. His range of movement was tested. Finally finished, Caleb set his hand back down and pulled away.

"Start stretching your hand and arm. Even if it rips the wounds open. Keep stretching or you're going to lose the dexterity of that hand. Stay off your feet unless you've got help." A raised brow had Warren hurriedly nodding in agreement. Caleb huffed and stalked away.

The king gave Warren a sympathetic look as he took the stool Caleb had vacated. "I think he's pleased with your progress." He smiled at the look that went across Warren’s face.

If that was pleased, he did not want to see the man cross.

"You worried him. It's never a good idea to worry Caleb."

"Sorry."

The meek apology was accepted with a nod. The king cocked his head with a soft smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Weak. But my fever broke a couple days ago and hasn't been back." Warren stiffened when the king reached for him, going perfectly still when that warm hand rested against his forehead to test for himself. He hoped his flush wasn't hot enough to feel like a fever to the king and make him a liar as the gentle touch trailed down, pausing on his cheek and the side of his neck before finally retreating.

"Good. You look better too. So then. I hear you have an answer for me?"

Warren looked up in surprise. "I didn't give you an answer?" He had been sure he had managed to get it out. That had been the whole point of giving chase!

The king smiled. "You did. I just wanted to make sure you remembered doing so and still felt the same way."

Warren let out a breath, a smile of relief tugging at his mouth. He gave his answer again, clearly and fully aware this time. "I'll wear the title of your consort to help you stop this war, if it still pleases you, Your Majesty."

The king smiled. "Good. Thank you."

"I'm fairly certain I'm the one who should be thanking you, Your Majesty."

There was a pause for consideration, then the king came to his decision. "King Aaron. It seems odd for a consort to be so formal."

Warren was quite sure any informality was going to feel wrong on his tongue for some time, but he would do his best to remember. He nodded, testing it. "Alright, King Aaron."

"Thank you, Warren."

The king’s company stayed in camp for two days. Warren swung between absolute calm and a hypervigilance in case he had to leap out of bed and chase down the king’s company again. The strained attention proved unnecessary. The rumors and sounds of the king’s retinue packing up to head out had barely reached the medics tent when Caleb came striding in holding a bundle of clothes. Warren was torn between the desire to help and Caleb's orders not to move until told. He was so eager to be free of this cot and no longer confined to lying flat on his back.

Caleb got him seated on the cot and worked with impersonal efficiency to get Warren dressed. Fresh small clothes, trousers and tunic had Warren feeling half-way back to normal again. The warm woolen socks, boots and cloak were easily added while Warren was seated and then he pulled the crutch out from where he had hidden it beneath his cot. Caleb helped him up onto his working leg and let him strike out on his own, though he hovered behind just in case.

Warren made his way out of the tent and hobbled across the camp. He was given a horse and a boost into the saddle. He grimaced in pain when the seat pulled his trousers tight across his wounded leg, but a quick shift relieved the pressure and he settled in after that. Caleb mounted his own horse and motioned for Warren to follow him as he took his place in the column just behind the king. King Aaron turned and smiled when he found Warren in position, nodding his satisfaction before doing one last check and calling for them to move out.

They picked a quick pace to get back to the capital city and the castle of Ravenrock. Part of it was for safety. Wartime made for a desperation keen enough to attempt attacks on a royal procession. Part of it was a simple desire to get home. The progress was steady and weather good enough they were managing the ten day journey in eight. Warren couldn't complain. He was still weak, and tired easily. By the time they broke for camp at night, it was often all he could do to bolt a few bites of dinner and collapse into whatever bedroll they pointed him to.

Caleb's sharp eyes were always on him. He felt King Aaron's gaze on him often too. He understood why the medic would watch him so closely. How and why he had gained the king's close watch he was unsure. He couldn't say if it bothered him or not either.

He set those thoughts aside for later consideration. The looming city gates provided ample distraction. Warren drew the hood of his cloak up over his head and down to hide his face. The city people were all coming out for the impromptu parade, waving and cheering their king. King Aaron cut an impressive figure, and it was easy for Warren to disappear into his shadow. It made for a perfect vantage.

It was clear King Aaron loved his people. And they loved him in return. Not just for his distinguished visage either. He led fairly and honestly. He had spent almost two years leading his army in this war, charging into battle at the very front, expecting no more of his soldiers than he himself was willing offer. It endeared him to his people, and his personable nature was charming.

They rode in the gates to the palace, leaving the cheering common folk behind for the more distinguished welcome of the nobles and courtiers. The atmosphere shifted. The genuine warmth was replaced with the cool calculation of snakes. Warren realized why King Aaron had said he would be hidden in plain sight. These highbrow aristocrats would look down their noses at him and dismiss him as nothing more than dirt under their heels.

The council members welcomed King Aaron back and immediately began insisting he attend meetings and listen to their whining and wailing before he had even had a chance to shake off the dust of the road. He was the center of everyone's focus, each looking for a little of his attention or favor. It gave Warren a moment to slide off his horse without being stared at. He clung to the saddle until he was sure he had his good leg under him and then let the stabler take away his horse to be cared for.

He got his crutch under him, intending to slip back into King Aaron's shadow and remain unnoticed. He didn't think it would be hard. They were completely ignoring Caleb attempting to insist on a chance to clean up at least. They were even mostly ignoring King Aaron's assurances that everything would be taken care of as soon as he was equipped to deal with it.

"How did you get in here, beggar?! Back to the streets with you!"

Warren sucked in a breath as a hand gripped a handful of his front and shook him. The jostling hurt his leg as his balance was thrown. And then a hard shove had him stumbling backwards, tumbling to the ground flat on his back. His hood fell back, revealing his face. The gasps of shock and horror had shame curling in his stomach and heating his neck. The lady swooning irritated him, and the hot anger fueled his stubborn defiance. He refused to let any of it show on his face as he worked to regain his feet again.

"You will keep your hands to yourself and not assault my guests, young sir."

Warren hesitated, eyes fixed on King Aaron at the livid tone as the man shoved his way through. His brown eyes, usually so kind and understanding, had gone dark and dangerous. The young man that had shoved Warren cowered and gaped like a fish, looking for some excuse or defense.

By the time King Aaron had glared the young noble into silence, Warren had gotten back to his feet. He squashed the urge to hide in his hood again. They had all seen, and they likely would again. Better they get used to him than him getting used to preserving their delicate sensibilities. Surprise rippled through the courtyard as King Aaron turned to Warren and offered his arm with a soft, "are you alright?"

Swallowing, Warren reached out and took the offered help. "I'm fine. Thank you, King Aaron." Warren felt the stares keenly, but the thinly concealed outrage at his use of the king’s name satisfied some primal part of him that was still raging at the harsh treatment for existing.

King Aaron raised his voice so it would carry to everyone assembled. "Thank you for your welcome. Councilors, I shall attend to you shortly in the meeting hall. Please wait patiently for me there while I get my consort settled."

Stunned silence filled the courtyard. Warren caught Caleb's sly wink as he bowed and took his leave. King Aaron's mouth tightened in a concealed smile as he helped Warren hobble along. He waited until they were well out of sight and earshot of all but the king’s personal guards before offering to take more of Warren's weight. Warren reluctantly accepted but couldn't help the gasp of relief as King Aaron pulled Warren's arm across his broad shoulders. He slipped his own arm around Warren's waist and tucked him in close. It took most of the strain off of Warren and he had to admit just how tired he was.

"Well, that certainly could have gone better, but you handled yourself well. I'm proud of you."

Warren glanced at King Aaron at the compliment, surprised. "I didn't do anything, Your Majesty."

King Aaron smiled, adjusting his grip a bit. "You did quite a bit. You showed them you'll get back up when pushed down and that they can't intimidate you. You established your familiarity with me before I even dropped the word 'consort', which will help reinforce the presentation we're trying to convince them of. And I appreciate you allowing me to help you, whether you need it or not."

Warren hummed. "If I hadn't let you help, you would have had to leave me on the floor a couple turns back." The chuckle he had been hoping for comes out concern instead.

"Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head. "Just tired." The king nods.

After a long moment, the king adds in low tone. "Don't ever let them make you feel inferior, Warren. You're not." And they go quiet until he pulls them to a halt at a door. "My quarters are just down that hall, and you can feel free to come find me there if you need. But these are yours."

King Aaron opens the door and lets Warren reclaim his own weight so he can walk in on his own. Warren stops to look around in awe. There's a huge fireplace with an assortment of plush seating. Thick carpets cover the floor. A long, polished dining table is seated for eight, but he's sure could hold twice that number easily. A couple bookshelves hold a collection of books and curiosities and a set of paned double doors in the far wall let in lots of light and appear to let out onto a large balcony. Two halls branch left and right, indicating there's more to see beyond the overwhelming opulence of this living space.

"All of this is mine?"

King Aaron nods. "My great grandfather had a harem of eight, and these quarters were built to please them. The bedrooms are all a little different so feel free to choose whichever suits you. Or use them all, if you like. The last couple generations have been forced into political marriages with monogamy as a stipulation, so it's been a while since anyone has occupied this space. Feel free to arrange it however you choose."

Warren hobbles carefully through the space, feeling awkward about touching anything. He goes right for no particular reason and stops at the first bedroom for the minimum of steps. This space still feels overwhelming. A straw filled mattress is luxury as far as he's concerned. He doesn't expect this monstrosity of a bed to hold anything less than the softest feathers. The linens and pillows all threaten to swallow him whole should he dare attempt to enter. The wardrobe stands open to accept the extra clothes he doesn't own. A set of shelves awaits personal items he also doesn't own. And he isn't sure what sort of work the writing desk expects him to do upon its polished surface.

The king takes his silence as dissatisfaction and hastens to reassure him. "Anything missing can be obtained for you. Simply let me know what you need or want, and I'll get it for you."

Warren swallows. "Can you have the mirror removed?"

He hears a soft inhale of understanding. Then he's shuffling aside as the king moves past him to remove the gilt framed glass himself. King Aaron is careful to keep the reflective surface angled away from Warren and holds the face against himself as he hauls it out of the room. "Better?"

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"There will be a banquet tonight. I'd love to see you there, but I will certainly understand if you should choose to stay here for the evening. I'll have someone come by to fetch you if you decide to come or deliver dinner if you decline. You should rest until then."

Warren slowly nods. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Sleep well, Warren." King Aaron heads for the door, taking the mirror with him.

Warren forces his leaden feet forward. He sets aside his crutch and pushes on the bed experimentally. As he expected, if he crawls in, he'll be forced to swim back out. Still, he hangs up his cloak in the wardrobe and tucks his boots under the edge of the bed. Then falls into the soft trap and is asleep in seconds.

A knock on the door has him jolting awake and flailing. He flops and wriggles like a beached fish and finally gives up when he finds himself unable to get up. A concentrated effort gets his elbows under him and he levers himself up enough to look towards the door. Caleb stands there, watching with impassive patience. Warren sighs and swings a leg for the edge of the bed, managing to use that bit of leverage to pull himself into a seated position.

"Any pain?" Caleb asks.

Warren scrubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns. "It's manageable."

"Would you like to join the king at the banquet or stay here for the night?"

"How painful is the banquet going to be?"

Caleb shrugs. "I avoid them whenever possible. But King Aaron prefers having a friend around, so I often end up attending. If you decide to stay here, then I suppose I will be obligated to attend."

Warren looks at Caleb, noting the lack of attempts to guilt him into going. Caleb is merely stating the facts of the situation with no expectation for Warren to alter his intentions accordingly. But it's the implications that really catches Warren's attention.

"I'm King Aaron's friend?"

"He seems to think so."

Warren can't help the incredulous smile that crosses his face. "I suppose I can go attend a banquet for a little while." Caleb nods and turns away, disappearing back out into the main room. Warren is just starting to get his first boot on when Caleb comes back with a new set of clothes. Warren grimaces at the stiffer formal clothes but allows Caleb to help him get dressed.

Caleb leads the way through the halls, assuring Warren he'll learn to navigate the huge maze of castle corridors soon enough. They stop just outside the doors to the banquet hall and Caleb gives him a quick lesson in banquet etiquette. He ends his rough outline with an easy, "don't worry. Everyone is going to expect perfection which you have no way of giving so don't bother trying. The only one you have to impress is King Aaron, and you know he likes you just fine."

Warren nods, lets Caleb clap him on the back and offer him luck, takes a deep breath, and hobbles in. People move out of his way and go quiet as he passes, but it's not respect or being polite. They simply don't want him anywhere near them as they gossip about him. When half the hall has gone quiet to stare at him, King Aaron looks up from his conversation. He visibly brightens at Warren's appearance, and the open welcome on his face bolsters Warren's resolve.

He finishes hobbling the length of the hall and stops in front of the king’s table. Carefully finding his balance, he bows before the king and offers his greeting. "Your Majesty."

"Welcome Warren."

The warm voice is genuine, and the smile is wide when Warren straightens again. King Aaron gestures to the seat next to him, ignoring the surge of whispering the offer invokes. Warren moves around the table and takes the seat, trying to relax and ignore all the people staring at him. King Aaron leans in, filling Warren’s glass with wine himself as he speaks.

"Eat and drink whatever you like. Enjoy the music. I'd say dance but you still look tired. Perhaps you'll find a companion or two to talk with instead."

Warren huffs, managing a smile. "I'm fairly certain you are the only companion I have here, Your Majesty." He angled in before King Aaron could retreat from his lean in to pour wine into Warren's glass to speak lowly into his ear. The king froze as he listened. "Besides, as your 'companion' how eager should I really be to make new friends instead of monopolizing as much of your time as I can?"

King Aaron's brown eyes turn amber in the torchlight as they slowly shifted to meet Warren's gaze. "That's an excellent point." He abruptly let out a sigh and retreated back into his own space. "But I don't want you to feel like you should isolate yourself."

Warren just shrugged, feeling like he was probably about as isolated as he could get in this place he had no business being. The most he could hope for was to get along with the staff, and that was only the ones who didn't mind his scars and limp. He turned his attention to the banquet.

The food was richer than he had ever had the privilege of eating, so he couldn't eat much. The wine was strong too, and not watered down to help stretch it out. The music was, in fact, quite good. The company was better.

On the road, Warren had been so exhausted most of the time he didn't interact with the king beyond an assurance that Warren was eating and not in significant pain. Now, he was rested. The wine loosened his tongue and banished his nerves. And his pain was not so bad he couldn't ignore it. Or perhaps the wine was simply making him forget he'd ever had any. Regardless, the combination was such that Warren looked forward to the moments where the king found himself with a free moment for conversation.

He would rest on his elbow closest to Warren and Warren would mirror him so they could pretend a private tone. The king would make some comment or warning on who was whom in the hall and Warren would return with his initial impression. Often, he could get a laugh out of the king. He liked the sound immensely. It was warm and infectious, and Warren got the impression King Aaron didn't have many opportunities to just be himself and laugh.

There was a mortifying moment where Warren forgot himself and his company. His common born roots and early introduction to the military had some crude monarchy humor with vulgar language slipping off his tongue. It was only after he'd said it that he realized he shouldn't have and he slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and attempting to formulate an apology as he turned to face the king. He expected wrath.

King Aaron blinked at him, eyes just as wide in stunned disbelief. And then he roared with laughter so loud and long the entire banquet hall turned to look. Some of the courtiers and nobles tittered along, simply because the king was obviously enjoying himself or maybe they thought he was laughing at Warren. In a way they were right, he supposed.

Warren's hand slowly fell away from his mouth, smiling despite himself. "I'm so sorry. That was poor taste for the company."

King Aaron just shook his head, still trying to get himself under control. "No, that was fantastic. I've never heard that one before. I mean, I understand why, but still! I love it! Got any more of those?"

He did, but he wasn't ready to divulge them just yet. It didn't matter. That one kept King Aaron amused enough he was still grinning and prone to random snorts or chuckles through dessert.

One of the endless interruptions of the night came as the dancing started. A pretty young lady had obviously plucked up her limited courage enough to ask the king for a dance. King Aaron started to refuse, until Warren's sympathetic hum stopped him. "Now, King Aaron, don't you realize how brave the lady was to come up here and ask for a dance in front of everyone like this? Surely you can handle one dance."

King Aaron eyed him. Warren stared back. The king finally nodded and got to his feet. "True enough. There is no finer thing than courage, so I would be honored to dance with you."

Warren smiled as the lady beamed. The grateful look she sent him made it all the more worth it and he watched for a few moments as King Aaron led her into the space cleared for dancing. The pleasing sight was soured a little when he looked outwards into the hall for the first time in a long while that night and found too many people staring back at him. He gulped his wine, finishing the glass. An attempt to refill the glass provided him with another swallow and an empty pitcher so he stood in search of more.

He started for the servant’s entrance to the kitchens before remembering he wasn't sure if he should go down there or not. How high a station was 'King's Consort' anyways? It turned out not to matter overmuch. A young man holding a fresh pitcher of wine came up the narrow stairs, noted Warren's empty glass, and filled it for him. He smiled and thanked the boy, then managed to make it over to the wall and out of the way as a fresh bustle started in and out of the kitchen.

Leaning against the wall was just fine for him. He could still see the dancing and hear the music, and it gave him a chance to stretch his legs. The warmth of the wine in his body and head was enjoyable and down here, he was less exposed than up at the king’s table. The hum of conversation washed over him, little snatches here and there that he often had no context for.

Until one conversation reached his ears that drew his full attention.

"Do you really think the king made an ugly gutter rat like that his consort?"

"I don't know. I know I wouldn't be able to stand the sight of that in my bed. I don't care how tight his arse or how skilled his tongue."

"Perhaps that's not what he's for?"

Warren's fingers tightened on his glass. His heartbeat was loud in his head.

"You think he's a whipping boy? I suppose that could be it. No reason to resist being as cruel as one likes with a body like that. Or maybe he likes it when they struggle? With a limp like that and all that damage, I bet it doesn't take much to overpower him and make him stay put. No bindings required."

"You think he cries and screams enough to need a gag or-"

Warren was done listening at that. He turned and slowly started moving, partly because the wine was making him unsteady and partly to keep from spilling the contents of the glass in his hand. The men stopped talking as he approached but he didn't care. He calmly started past them, and in the space where he should have swung his crutch forward, he instead upended his wine over the head of the man he was sure had suggested King Aaron liked to hurt his bed partners.

The man yelped and jumped to his feet, shoving Warren as he roared. "You clumsy son of a whore! How dare you!"

Warren staggered back at the shove, dropping the glass to shatter on the floor but managing to keep his feet. He held his ground as the man snarled in his face, waiting for the pompous noble to give him an opportunity with eyes that were cold and calculating. The noble reached out to grab him and Warren slapped his hand away. The noble's outrage reached a boiling point and he ignored the warning.

"On your knees, filth! Beg for my forgiveness!"

When he reached again, Warren let him grab up a handful at his front. He even let the highborn fool back him into the wall. Then he grasped the noble’s wrist in his hand and twisted, hard enough to bend the man’s arm back and force him to one knee. He cracked his crutch against the man’s exposed shin to force that knee to the floor as well and then let go.

The noble jumped to his feet and his hand whipped out his dagger. Warren adjusted his grip on his crutch with a sigh. This one didn't know when to quit.

"That's enough!"

Warren kept his eyes firmly on his opponent when King Aaron's bellow stilled the entire hall. He could sense the king striding around to break things up with his guards behind him, but he didn't trust the noble not to strike at him if he looked away. The noble obviously trusted Warren's honor, however, because he turned to give the king his excuses. Warren was sure the blame would be laid fully on him. The king didn't appear to be interested in listening.

"I won't ask either of you to apologize but there will be no fighting in my castle."

"But he-!"

"Stand down!"

Warren loosened his hold on his crutch, dropping it from a position to be used as a weapon back down to his side. His posture straightened as much as he was able into attention. The rigid military reflex at the kings commanding officer tone was almost comforting to him. He half wondered if the king would get in his face or stay back. Make his scolding public by yelling or hiss at him in low tones. He wasn't sure which was worse.

"Put away your blade before you get hurt."

Warren's eyes stayed fixed ahead, though he sorely wanted to send a glance the king’s way at that. The nobleman sputtered in disbelief.

"Him hurt me?! You think he can come anywhere close to me?!"

"You're looking at a man who led twenty against five hundred and took the battlefield. I think he'll wipe the floor with you." The note of pride in the king’s voice and the sound of his smirk had Warren feeling warm. His eyes strayed towards King Aaron as the king stepped across the broken glass and offered his arm. "Let me walk you back to your quarters. I think you've had enough fun for one night."

Warren swallowed. Then he reached out and took the king’s arm. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

King Aaron led him out of the hall. Warren waited until they were out of sight and hearing before murmuring. "If you don't mind-" He didn't manage to finish his plea when he staggered. King Aaron quickly pulled Warren's arm across his shoulders and pulled them flush together, easily taking Warren's weight.

"Thank you, King Aaron."

"Are you alright?"

"Just tired." He noted the glance the king sent him and knew exactly what King Aaron wanted to know. But he didn't appear to be working around to asking. Warren took in a breath and let it out again slowly. "I didn't like what he said."

The king just hummed. Not quite understanding and not quite question.

"He thinks it pleases you to hurt your bed partners."

King Aaron’s shoulders stiffened, and he turned to look at Warren more fully. Warren just watched his feet. The king faced forward again, steel entering his voice as he spoke. "No. I don't."

Warren nodded. "I had thought so. If anything, you're too nice. There's no cruelty in you, and even implying otherwise is a disrespect I just couldn't let stand." He glanced at King Aaron, finding a soft smile. "I'm sorry, for making trouble for you. But I'm not sorry I did it."

King Aaron glanced over, brown eyes warm. "Thank you, Warren."

They fell into an easy silence until Warren was delivered to the doors of his new quarters. King Aaron hovered while Warren got his crutch under him. "Do you need further assistance?"

"No. Thank you, King Aaron."

"Sleep well, Warren. I'll see you in the morning."

Warren nodded. "Goodnight, King Aaron." He watched for a moment as the king turned, likely to go back and finish out the rest of his banquet. Then he slipped into his quarters. He managed to struggle out of the fancy clothes, and they went into the wardrobe alongside his cloak and traveling clothes. He burrowed beneath the covers in just his small clothes and fell asleep.

At some point during the night something woke him. He fought his way out of bed and peeked into the main room. It seemed someone had come in while he slept because there was a pitcher of water and glass on the dining table and the fire had been lit. He poured himself some water and drained the glass, then filled it again and hauled it back to bed with him.

He woke with a hangover. There was a throbbing behind his eyes and a lurch of discomfort in his stomach. He struggled up and out of the monstrous bed and scrubbed his face with a groan. By the morning light, his decision to upend a glass of wine over a nobleman’s head was extremely poorly thought out. He still couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

The sound of the door opening in the next room as he was just finishing getting dressed drew his attention. He grabbed up his crutch, skipping his boots for the time being. He could come back for them if he needed.

Rounding the corner, he expected to find King Aaron or Caleb. He froze at the sight of the pretty young woman in her late teens setting out a light breakfast on the table. Her maid uniform and tightly coiled dark blonde hair were as tidy as the way she moved. She noticed him before he could retreat back out of sight and smiled. The expression startled him. Her curtsy and formal greeting had him off balance.

"Good morning, Your Highness. Did you sleep well?"

"Oh, you don't have to- What did you call me?!"

The girl didn't seem bothered by his alarm at all. "Breakfast for you, Your Highness. If it's not to your taste or you'd rather breakfast with His Majesty I've been instructed to oblige."

Warren managed to sit before he fell over, legs trembling. The servant girl cheerfully began serving out the food. Warren numbly watched her until she finished.

"Anything else you'd like Your Highness?"

Warren swallowed. "Please, just call me Warren." The girl nodded, but he was afraid she wouldn't actually drop the title. "What do I call you?"

She curtsied again. "Tessa, if it pleases you."

"Nice to meet you Tessa."

Pleasantries done and food served, Tessa trotted off. He slowly began to eat as he listened to her build up the fire. She threw open the curtains to the balcony and opened up the doors for some fresh air before beginning to dust. Warren decided he needed to do some investigating and polished off his breakfast. He stood, ready to go grab his boots. He quickly shook his head as Tessa offered him her services, fetching his boots himself and tugging them on. She turned her attention on him with a smile of question when he hesitated in his charge for the door.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the king is this morning, would you?"

"I do believe he was eating in his quarters this morning, Sir."

“Thank you.” Warren nodded, willing to accept 'sir' over 'your highness'. He went as fast as he could manage out into the hall and down in the direction King Aaron had indicated his rooms were. Warren was fairly sure he had the right place when he found the doors guarded by a severe pair of soldiers. They blocked him before he had managed to get even close.

"I'm here to see King Aaron."

The guards glanced at each other. Then one of them turned to rap his knuckles against the door. King Aaron called permission to enter and the guard slipped inside. After a moment, he was back out and gesturing for Warren to enter. Warren hobbled in and his eyes were immediately drawn to the king. King Aaron stood to greet him with a smile, moving around the little breakfast table to draw out a chair.

"Good morning Warren. Sleep well?"

"Why did the girl call me 'Highness'?"

King Aaron blinked in surprise. Then understanding seemed to creep across his face. "Sit down Warren."

Warren huffed but moved to sit. King Aaron absently offered him tea and breakfast as he retook his own seat, not looking surprised when both were declined. "Warren, what did you think the title 'consort' meant?"

"It's- I'm a concubine. A bed fellow. Some late-night entertainment when your wife goes to bed early complaining of a headache."

King Aaron leaned back in his chair. "Oh dear."

Warren's pulse pounded and panic crept into his voice. "What?!"

"The title, the full title, is Prince Consort. Effectively, you are my spouse. Though you have no real political power, your station still deserves the respect of the title 'Your Highness' because of the association you have to me." There was a brief pause as King Aaron waited for Warren's response. "Warren? Breathe."

Warren sucked in a breath and gasped. The darkness began to pull back from his vision and he twisted his hands in his lap to disguise their shaking. King Aaron's meek voice reached his ears from far away.

"I'm sorry. I guess I should have explained a little better at the beginning. Or made sure you knew what you were agreeing to. Are you alright? If this is more than you were comfortable with I can-"

He cut off when Warren shook his head harshly, lifting a hand in a request to wait. When he thought he could speak without the sound of panic in his voice, he licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Has this been made public knowledge beyond you calling me that in front of your councilors?"

King Aaron shook his head. "We argued over it a great deal before the banquet and they have insisted I wait. I believe they think this is an infatuation that will pass in a couple weeks and then I will thank them for saving myself the embarrassment as I have to come up with a way to quietly put you away. I've agreed to keep the 'arrangement' quiet, until the spring, and then if I still feel the same way about you there will be a formal ceremony."

Warren quietly nodded. "But there are still rumors, around the castle."

Nodding, King Aaron confirmed. "Everyone in the castle knows by now, I'm sure. The staff has been instructed to treat you appropriately and the courtiers are urged to not speak of it to the common folk. I imagine it will get out fairly soon anyways. It's big news."

"But-” Warren swallows, fingers twisting. His breathing is still fast and his heart thunders in his chest, but the king waits patiently for him. "What happens when you actually do take a wife? You need an heir eventually, right? I won't be in the way then?"

"Not at all." King Aaron smiles. "Don't worry about that Warren. I expect my choice of spouse will be taken from me like my father and grandfather before me. At least this way, I know I've got a friend to stand by my side."

Warren slowly calms. He slumps in his seat, shifting his damaged leg out when it twinges and resting an elbow up on the arm of the chair to rake his hand through his hair. He absently notices it's all sorts of different lengths where the fire got to it. "This is a heavier title than I first thought I was taking on, Your Majesty. But I believe my answer still would have been the same, even if I had known this back then."

His gaze shifts from the idle perusal of the breakfast table to the king’s gentle smile. "I'm really worth this much to you?"

King Aaron's smile widens, the light catching the humorous glint in his brown eyes and turning them a captivating gold. "Yes Warren. You're worth this much and more."

Warren huffs, smirk pulling at his mouth. "I do believe you've been cheated, Yo- mm, King Aaron. I've gotten the much better end of this deal."

King Aaron laughs. "We'll see. I still expect you to end a war for me, so I'll be taking that out of you."

They pass the rest of breakfast with idle talk until a servant comes to clean away the dishes. Then King Aaron gets to his feet and offers Warren his arm. "Come with me. My study is a better place to strategize battles. And then I believe Caleb will want to take a look at you."

Warren nods and levers himself to his feet to take the king’s arm. The new realization of the intimacy of the act doesn't quite beat out the steady ease King Aaron offers. And when they begin pouring over maps to work out enemy holdings and supply lines, Warren quite forgets King Aaron is effectively his spouse. It's easy to slip into the mindset of two soldiers, looking for ways to resolve a national conflict with a minimum of loss.

King Aaron is intelligent himself, and certainly a competent leader. Warren finds him easy to work with and attentive when he makes explanations or suggestions. He catches himself wondering how the council can so flippantly disregard their king, instead of doing everything they can to support his endeavors.

"They still think of me as a child."

Warren blinks. "Did I speak aloud?"

King Aaron chuckles. "No. But you were staring at me with that protective look on your face, so I made an assumption."

"They would do well to respect you. You're a powerful man, and not because you wear the crown." The king grins at that, gaze falling back to the consideration of the war efforts. "Why don't you just, get rid of them all? Appoint a whole new council that agrees with you."

The grin fades. King Aaron shakes his head, straightening away from the table and going to a tray of refreshments he had asked to be brought in and neither had touched. "I don't want people that blindly agree with me. I want people that challenge me. That speak their minds without fearing a King's wrath to help me find solutions that will work. I'm tired of giving my people temporary fixes and finite measures of success. I want help finding ways to make this kingdom better for everyone, because trying to manage by myself around men who just want to lick my boots hasn't been working."

He brings over a cup of water in each hand and offers Warren one. Warren takes it and sips it, studying the determination on King Aaron's face. "Then, I'm honored you've chosen me to help you achieve your dream. And I shall do my best to challenge and support you however you need." Warren hesitates before adding, "that said, moving this unit here is stupid. If I were the enemy, I'd have already moved these units here to support this position and there will be no one there once your troops arrive."

King Aaron's grin comes back for a moment and then he sobers as he leans over the map, shoulder to shoulder with Warren to study the positioning of troops around the mountain range.

A light lunch is delivered for both men and King Aaron calls the session closed soon after. He directs Warren to Caleb's usual haunts and turns to make a meeting with his councilors. A request to see Warren in the dining hall for an informal dinner and its acceptance has the king beaming happily.

Warren shakes his head with a smile and turns to track down Caleb. It's that exuberance that makes the council think of King Aaron as a child, he's sure. But he can't say it doesn't suit the king perfectly.

Warren finds his way to the medical wing and soon finds Caleb. The physician nods in greeting and directs him to an out of the way corner to strip down to his small clothes. His ribs are pronounced fine. Warren eyes Caleb as the man moves on to checking his burns and the mobility of his arm.

"Thank you for the lack of title. If you could continue this informality with me, I'd be grateful." Caleb glances at him and a brow is raised.

"He finally got around to explaining that or did you figure it out on your own?"

Warren grimaces. "Both. The girl that brought me breakfast used the title and then I made King Aaron explain." His eyes narrow. "You knew I didn't understand?"

Caleb shrugs. "I wasn't sure for quite a while at the beginning. I assumed you would, and I told King Aaron that it was a horrible plan because the temptation of the title would distract from the reasons the title was being offered. But when you asked for time to think it made me feel a little better at least. I suppose it was on the trip back to the castle that I realized you had no idea what 'consort' really meant. We both rather liked you by then so I told King Aaron he should inform you. I guess Tessa decided she would speed things along."

"You know Tessa?"

"Very well."

"She's your..."

"Daughter."

Warren nods, understanding. "Is that why she didn't seem to mind...me?"

Caleb huffs. "She's seen much worse than you. And you're not all that bad to begin with." He touches Warren's chin to shift him a bit, looking over the damaged half of his face and neck. "The scars are fading fairly well. I can find a mirror and show-" He stops when Warren vehemently shakes his head and reluctantly lets it lie.

His burns are given a short nod. The wound on his leg is tutted over.

"You need to keep this clean and dry. I'll have King Aaron show you to the baths. You'll need to wash it well. Dry it even better. And then pour this over it and let that dry." He digs out a stoppered, wide bottomed bottle and hands it over. "If it begins to hurt, smell, or swells up any further, come to me immediately."

Warren bit his lip. "Do I really need the king along with me to take a bath?"

"It's customary to bathe with a spouse if you have one." Caleb must have seen the contemplative look laced with panic. "If it helps, don't think of him as your spouse. He's a friend. A fellow soldier who will defend you as you defend him. He's not thinking of marriage right now, not really. Honestly, I think he's trying to avoid thinking about the fact that this war will likely end in a political marriage."

Warren winced at that. "To one of the Tyrant’s daughters?"

Caleb nodded. "Heard of them, have you?"

"One is insane, another kills slaves and pets for fun, the last is rumored to turn into a bloodthirsty monster at night. That’s how the stories go, anyways." He tried to imagine King Aaron being forced into that choice and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, maybe they'll take one look at me and turn up their noses at sharing the consort quarters with me."

Caleb hummed, obviously unimpressed with the self-deprecating comment but unable to argue the outcome would be fortunate, no matter the reasons. "Maybe. Get dressed. Inform King Aaron of my orders to bathe after dinner. If you don't, I will know, and you won't like my methods of rectifying the situation." He raised a brow with a hard look and only Warren's meek nod placated him.

Warren pulled his clothes back on and found his way back to the consort chambers to store the bottle of medicine until it was time to use it. And then he was unsure of what else to do for the rest of the afternoon. He finally decided learning his way around would be beneficial and began hobbling. A few servants in the halls offered him help or suggestions of places to explore. Only a couple seemed bothered by the sight of him.

"The king is taking audiences in the throne room. Those can get pretty lively some days, if you're interested in attending."

Warren decided that was as good a way to pass the time as any and thanked the older man. He was given directions and off he went. Slipping in undetected was easy enough, and he took a stand leaning up against the wall to watch the proceedings. They did indeed get lively. Some of the arguments to settle seemed so very trivial. Other requests had a weighty relevance that would have had Warren stumped trying to find a solution.

King Aaron made it all look easy.

When the proceedings were beginning to wind down, Warren pushed off the wall and turned back for his quarters. A little rest before dinner seemed like a good idea, and he wasn't entirely sure if King Aaron would come to collect him to take him to the dining hall or not.

He slipped into his quarters and managed to make it to one of the couches before his leg gave out under him. The wound on his leg felt warm. The rest of him ached. He relaxed back into the couch for a long moment, just resting in the quiet. His brow furrowed and his eyes opened when he heard shuffling. Wondering if Tessa was still around, Warren got to his feet to investigate.

He shuffled down to the bedroom beyond his, curious. The room was dark and seemed empty at first glance. He stepped in, trying to find the source of the noise. Perhaps a cat had gotten up here from the kitchens?

His body tensed as someone slammed into him, freezing as he was shoved against the wall with a knife to his throat.

"Don't move. Don't try anything or I will not hesitate to kill you. You will only open your mouth to tell me the fastest way out of the castle, clear?"

Warren stared at the girl, petite and pretty with raven curls and bronzed skin. He noted the desperation in her eyes, and carefully lifted his hands out to his sides. "Alright. I got it. Just drop the knife."

She snarled, hands remarkably steady. "I'll drop it as soon as you tell me the way out. Start talking!"

"Fine. You just head out of this room and-" He knocked the knife away, grasping her wrist and twisting to make her drop it. The blade clattered to the floor. The girl lunged for it and Warren managed to kick it away, sending it skittering into the hall outside the bedroom. She roared in frustration and slammed into him. The breath blasted from his lungs, his newly healed ribs protesting the abuse. Gritting his teeth, he cracked his head against hers. She stumbled backwards, hand going to her aching head, but the fire hadn't gone out of her eyes. He saw her eyes flick towards the knife and he dropped his crutch to lunge for her as she lunged for the blade.

His arms wrapped around her waist and they both crashed to the floor. The sound of the knife clinking against the floor spurred him to drag her back out of reach but she must have expected that. Her heel connected with his injured leg. A roar of pain was ripped from him. The blade scraped against the floor and instinct had Warren reeling backwards just before the knife swished through the air too close for comfort. Another attempt to slice into him came in the other way, but he didn't have the balance to dodge again. The knife cut into the forearm he threw up to protect himself and warm blood flowed.

She scrambled to her feet and lurched for the door. Warren snatched up his crutch and shoved into a leap at her, using hands and his good leg to close the distance. She slipped around the corner away from him. He threw his crutch like a spear, tangling her feet and sending her down just long enough for him to leap on top of her. A short struggle and he managed to settle himself across the backs of her thighs while his hands twisted her wrists into the small of her back. One hand held her arms immobile while his other plucked the knife from her grasp.

"Let's try this again," he hissed between their gasping. "Why are you running?"

She wiggled, attempting to get the leverage she needed to escape. She got nowhere, but she certainly hadn't given up. "They brought me in to stand trial as a demon speaker."

"Are you a demon speaker?"

"No!"

"Why do they think you are?"

She managed a glance over her shoulder at him, glaring. "Because I'm smarter than they are! I was finding ways to yield more crops and they didn't understand how."

His brow furrowed. "More crops is a good thing. Why would they punish you for that?"

Huffing, she sullenly muttered into the floor. "Because I may have been pulling tricks on those who started spreading rumors that I was using demoncraft."

"Oh. Is that all?" Warren pulled away and sat back, leaning back on his hands and sending a cursory glance over his damaged leg. He didn't see blood soaking through his trousers so that was a small comfort. It still throbbed from where she had kicked him, however. As soon as he had backed off, the girl scrambled up and away to put some space between them.

"What do you mean 'is that all'?"

Warren sighed. "You said you were brought in for trial. I'm going to guess you never actually got to speak your case before the king?" She shook her head. "Maybe we should do that."

Suspicion had her eyes narrowing at him. "Why?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a war going on. War means troops and troops need to eat. The more crops we can grow the better. So, if you can teach your methods to others..."

She hesitated, then slowly nodded. "If they'll listen."

"His Majesty can make them listen." He shifted a little with a wince. "I'm Warren."

"Ivy."

"Alright Ivy. I'm going to assume you came in here to hide?" She nodded. "They might not check in here but if they do, I can cover for you. Just don't go threatening me with knives again." He slowly got to his feet, hopping over to drop the knife on the table.

"You're bleeding."

He glanced at her. "Thanks for that." He ignored her irritated look and turned his arm up to look. It wasn't all that bad, considering. She had really only grazed him when he was sure she meant to do more. His leg was the bigger problem, as it was refusing to move, much less take weight. 

Caleb was going to kill him.

A soft knock on the door had them both looking up and Warren waved for Ivy to get out of sight while he hopped for the door. She had only gotten to her feet when the door opened. Warren could practically feel her panic. With impressive speed, she had snatched up the knife again. She grasped the back of his collar and placed it to his throat as King Aaron walked in.

King Aaron froze, eyes locking on the blade. Warren grimaced as the cool blade pressed up against the bottom of his jaw.

"Ivy, we just talked about you threatening me with knives." Her fingers closed a little tighter in his shirt.

"Warren?"

Warren looked up and met King Aaron's gaze. There was a cold determination there as the king slowly reached for the sword at his hip. "Uh, King Aaron? This is Ivy. Ivy, His Majesty." He licked his lips and silently pleaded for trust. "Ivy here needs some protection, Your Majesty. I think she can make it worth the kingdoms while."

King Aaron's eyes narrowed, but his hand fell from his sword. Understanding seemed to register and he leaned back, checking the hall. Mouth narrowed in determination, he turned back to Ivy and Warren. "They're just down the hall, and they'll want to search in here next. This way." Ivy didn't move so the king snapped, "quickly!"

Warren spoke low over his shoulder. "He can help you Ivy. But you're going to have to trust us."

She took in a shuddering breath, then let go of Warren. King Aaron made the distance in three long strides now that Warren was no longer threatened and took up his arm, acting as a crutch as he gestured Ivy towards the door. He hurried her ahead of them and pushed Warren to his limits to keep up as they made for the king’s quarters. All three tumbled in and slammed the doors behind them. King Aaron gestured with a nod towards a door.

"Through there."

He let go of Warren at the doorway, making sure he was steady before turning away completely. Warren hopped in, scanning the spacious bedroom. There were few places to hide that wouldn't require some work to make look natural and Warren could already hear the clatter of armed guards coming. He shoved Ivy to hide behind the door and hopped for the bed, grasping at the only logical reason he would be in the king’s bedroom.

A quick flick had the covers back and he sat to kick off his boots. He jerked his shirt over his head and had just flung it away when a guard pushed the door open, pinning Ivy against the wall behind it. The guard stopped at the sight of Warren, surprise giving way to a realization as he started shifting uncomfortably. Warren cocked his head in question.

"Can I help you with something?"

"We- We're looking for a girl."

Warren sent a long, slow look around the room before meeting the guard’s eyes again. "I don't see any girls in here. Do you?"

The guard shook his head, making a stumbling retreat. "No, Your Highness. So sorry to interrupt, Your Highness."

Warren ignored Ivy staring at him with a stunned look on her face and slid off the bed, hopping over to stand half naked in the doorway and watch. King Aaron was talking with the man leading this errant girl hunt, mostly ignoring his apartments being searched. The king turned a glance Warren's way, then another longer look at his state of undress. The wolfish grin that crept across his face seemed to put everyone on edge and they quickly took their leave.

When they were all out with the doors closed, Warren let out a stressed huff. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, shaking his head. "All that for one girl accused of demoncraft?" He stiffened when he realized King Aaron was staring at him and the grin was gone. The king crossed the room, gently grasping his wrist and lifting his arm to get a good look at the defensive wound down his forearm. It had mostly stopped bleeding and looked worse than it was.

"Small misunderstanding."

King Aaron frowned, but offered an arm for support. Warren let the king help him over to the couch in front of the fireplace and sat. The king disappeared into his bedroom, and soon reappeared with Warren's shirt and boots, and Ivy trailing him. Ivy stopped before approaching too close, watching carefully as King Aaron settled next to Warren and handed over the hastily discarded clothes.

"You- Your Highness?"

Warren glanced up at her. "Technically." He watched her expression hovering between confusion and terror. He imagined the confusion was for him, and how he had managed to earn that title. The terror was assuredly for what King Aaron would do to her for attacking and attempting to hold a Prince Consort hostage. He managed a reassuring smile as he shifted in his seat, trying to keep pressure off the thigh she had kicked.

"I'm so sorry, Your Highness. If I had known-"

She stopped when Warren waved her off, an absent move as he sorted out his shirt and pulled it on. "Just Warren, please. And don't apologize. Sit and tell King Aaron why you're here."


	2. Sloth and Diligence

King Aaron followed Warren's train of thought quickly. There was a moment of quiet where he considered Ivy, then he nodded. "I'd like to discuss this further. Among the three of us and privately. Come." He helped Warren to his feet and helped him limp back to the consort quarters to retrieve his crutch. Ivy followed and easily went along when King Aaron ushered her in.

"I'll have a dinner brought in for you. Please, eat and pick a room to rest for now. Warren and I will discuss this tonight. We will make formal arrangements in the morning, after we've all had a chance to talk again. Acceptable?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

King Aaron nodded in approval and offered his arm to Warren again. "Come along Warren. We have our own dinner to get to." King Aaron caught hold of the first servant they came across and asked that Tessa be found for him, and to relay his wishes that a supper be taken to the consort quarters. The servant bowed, promising it would be done and hurrying off. King Aaron and Warren continued on to the dining hall.

They sat down to dinner, just the two of them, occupying the corner of a table that could have seated Warren's entire company, he was sure. The massive space was soon forgotten for the quiet intimacy of a private conversation over their dinner, however. King Aaron seemed to grow more and more excited over the prospect of farming prosperity.

"Assuming she can do what she claims she can, I could use a surplus of crops in any number of ways. Not just the security of feeding my people through the winter but also trade and relief efforts for our allies in neighboring lands. Not to mention keeping supply lines running out to the war efforts. And- Warren?"

Warren jumped, pulling his gaze out of the contemplation of his cup and facing King Aaron's concerned eyes. "What? Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"I think..." He sighed and set aside his glass, leaning back in his chair. "I think you should make her the same offer you made me." King Aaron raised a brow, curious. Warren elaborated. "She needs the security. If her own people brought her in to be tried for demoncraft, I doubt she'll find safety and security among them even with your approval. I suppose you could just employ her in some capacity here in the castle, but I don't know if that would keep her safe from the nobility’s scrutiny."

He shook his head, reaching for his glass to drain it. "Eventually, they will forget all about her. But for right now, she needs the protection. Your protection. And the title of consort will give her that."

King Aaron studies him for a long moment, face unreadable. He quietly refills Warren’s glass, eyes distant with introspection and a hint of concern. "And you are alright with this?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" The genuine confusion must have placated the kings worry because he shook his head. Warren shrugged, softly continuing as he picked up his fork to poke at the last of his dinner. "She's a more suitable match for you anyways. Your council will have an easier time accepting a pretty young lady that can provide you with heirs than a broken soldier. And yes, I know you would never force her to bear your children, but from an outsider’s perspective..."

The stony silence as King Aaron stares into his plate is unnerving. The creased brow and darkened brown eyes are abnormal. Off putting enough for Warren to change the subject.

"Celeb says I'm healing well. But he's worried about my leg. He told me to ask you to take me to the baths and gave me some instructions. A medicine to put on it."

Brown eyes are immediately on him, the uncomfortable feeling gone. "Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. We can do that after dinner."

King Aaron offers his arm when they have finished eating and they go back to Warren's room first so he can collect the bottle of medicine. While there, he peeks in to find Ivy has crawled into the bed in the room next to his. He smiles. He had half been expecting her to make another escape attempt as soon as they were gone. The fact that she’s still here is comforting somehow, despite the fact that she was doing her best to kill him not two hours previous.

Back out in the hall, the king takes his arm again and leads the way to a corner of the castle that has been built around natural rock structure. A narrow stair leads down into a cavern, softly lit with lanterns and decorated with flowering plants. There's a heat in the air, fog rolling gently across the floor where it mixes with a cooler draft up above. The sound of falling water reaches him, and Warren eventually spots little trickles and waterfalls in the back of the cavern through the mist, feeding the scattered pools. Seven of them, in varying sizes, scattered across three tiers, all with lounges and tables arranged around them.

King Aaron leads Warren to a sitting area, already stocked with towels and bottles and soaps. He sets Warren down in a seat and goes to one knee to start working off his boots. Warren offers a protest that he can do it himself. King Aaron quietly insists.

Warren shivers a little when King Aaron has him stripped to the skin. He's not quite sure where to look as the king begins undressing himself. He's stripped down and bathed beside his fellow soldiers before without a second thought. This seems like more than that, but he's not sure if it's the realization of the full meaning of 'consort' or the more hands on experience. Perhaps it's just the general attentiveness that King Aaron demonstrates towards him.

The hand offered in front of him snaps him out of his introspection and he lets himself be pulled to his feet. The fog swirls around their legs as they move to the edge of a pool and down the steps that have been carved into the natural rock basin.

Warren hisses when he first steps in, the water hot where he had been expecting warm at best. It flushes his skin, but he gets used to the slight bite of it as he lowers himself in, inch by inch. A ledge provides a place to sit and he sinks down next to the king, the water lapping over his shoulders. Warren lets out a long groan as he relaxes into the heat, head leaning back and eyes closing in bliss.

"I greatly appreciate the rooms, Your Majesty, but I live here now."

King Aaron laughs. The sound echoes around the cavern. "At least something meets your approval here."

Warren’s eyes slide open, staring up at the ceiling. "Have I seemed ungrateful? I don't mean to be." He can see King Aaron shake his head from the corner of his eye, relaxing back himself with a soft smile.

"No, you've been fine. I think I've just been overwhelming you at every turn."

Warren nods, letting his eyes close again and dragging in the steamy air. "Honestly, you've done so much I'm not quite sure how to even process it all much less express my thanks. If there's ever anything I can do..."

He lets the offer hang, because he can't think of what he could possibly provide that hasn't been already in greater and richer amounts. And the king doesn't respond. Warren wonders if he's having as much trouble coming up with a repayment as Warren is.

The quiet doesn't feel uncomfortable. It simply is, and Warren finds his heartbeat slowing. His breathing turns deep and even. His mind floats as idly as his body. A hand running through his hair some indeterminable time later only gets the faintest flutter out of his pulse and his closed lids.

"Are you asleep?"

Warren hums a negative.

"Shall we take care of your leg then?"

His eyes open, and with supreme effort he lifts his head. "Probably." He stares into the water for a moment, head as foggy as the air above the water. "I feel drunk."

"I think you're just exhausted. Seems like you've been fighting since you set foot in the gates."

"Sorry."

"It's not all your fault. Come on. Can you stand?"

Warren nods. Between the king’s helping hand and a grip on the side of the basin, he makes it to his feet. His damaged leg won't support him, and it hurts to move it. He knows Caleb told him to make use of the baths, but he wonders if the instructions might have changed if Caleb knew Ivy had kicked him. He’s too tired to think much of bare wet skin pressed together as King Aaron slips under his arm to help him along. King Aaron settles him in a divan and straightens, looking over Warren’s wound.

"What were Caleb's instructions?"

"Clean it well. Dry it well. Apply the medicine and let that dry. Keep it clean and dry." He frowns. "A lot of dry."

King Aaron chuckles, placing a stool to sit at Warren's knee and picking through the assortment of bottles and vials. He comes back with the bottle he wants, a bowl with some water to rinse with, and a couple towels, seating himself and reaching for Warren's leg.

"I can-"

"Hush Warren. Let me help."

Warren subsides, leaning back and turning enough the king can get to all of the wound. The stitches that had held his leg together have long been removed, but even without the black threads Warren thinks it looks hideous. King Aaron doesn't seem to notice as he pours out a little liquid from the bottle and begins working it in. It quickly turns into a lather that smells clean and sweet.

Warren's gaze roams over the collection of bottles. "What are all those?"

King Aaron follows his gaze and smiles. "Soaps and oils mostly. A few have more medicinal qualities. Aphrodisiacs, a mild sedative to help steady the nerves, some fertility enhancers."

The king’s tone is light and unconcerned. Warren feels himself flush as he remembers what Caleb had said. 'Customary to bathe with a spouse' indeed. Suddenly the comfortable seating and multiple places to lounge in relative privacy among the copious plant screens all registers.

The rush of warm water washing away the soap brings him back to the present and he becomes hyper-aware of the warm hand wrapped around the inside of his knee. He flinches when a towel gets pressed against his leg to blot away the water. It hurts more than it did before, but he bites back the pained hiss he wants to make. King Aaron hisses instead.

Looking, Warren can see the pink tinge staining the towel. King Aaron glances up at him, his pressing becoming ginger. More pink comes away. "I don't think this is a good sign Warren."

Warren grimaces. "Just, put the medicine on it. Caleb said to come back if it started to hurt more, swelled, or started to smell."

Frowning, King Aaron swept his thumb over the wound to check how dry it was. Finding it acceptable, he unstoppered the bottle of medicine and poured it over the wound. This time, Warren couldn't hold back the whine of pain. He curled forward, one hand gripping at the king’s wrist while Warren's other hand closed on a shoulder. The wound fizzed and bubbled. Pins and needles prickled along its length and left behind a burn.

King Aaron let Warren cling, even after the bottle was empty. Warren breathed in deep and slowly relaxed. When his grip had loosened, King Aaron asked, "does it still hurt?" Warren grit his teeth. King Aaron's mouth tightened, head ducking to catch Warren's eyes with his own. "Warren, if it still hurts, we can go to Caleb. I know him. He would have warned you or kept you with him to give you the medicine himself if it was supposed to hurt more than a couple minutes."

Warren pulled his hands back, looking over the wound. The bubbling was slowly stopping. "It just surprised me. I'll be alright."

The king studied him another minute, then nodded and gently settled his leg on the divan. King Aaron gave the slice across Warren’s forearm an assessing look, but that wound didn’t appear to worry him. He draped a towel across Warren's lap and wrapped another around his own waist. Warren leaned back in the divan, watching King Aaron towel off his hair. He smirked when the king draped the towel over Warren's head next and ruffled gently.

Warren smiled when the towel lifted away and the king stopped, staring at him. The angle was odd, almost upside-down, and Warren cocked his head in an effort to get a better understanding of the look on the king’s face. "What?"

King Aaron seemed to startle out of his contemplation and shook his head. "Nothing. If you're not in pain, we should probably get you to bed."

Warren hummed in agreement. "Bed sounds wonderful."

They made a concentrated effort to get dressed and Warren found himself leaning against King Aaron a little more easily. He was delivered to the door of his quarters and the king made sure he was steady before pulling away. "Breakfast. Bring Ivy to my quarters and we'll eat together. Discuss with her what we talked about at dinner?"

Warren nodded. "See you at breakfast. Goodnight, King Aaron."

"Goodnight Warren."

They parted ways, and Warren sent one final glance into the bedroom next to his, finding Ivy still asleep. He eagerly crawled into his own bed and relaxed bonelessly into the soft mattress.

He had expected his dreams to be good. Or gentle, at the very least. Nightmares plagued him instead, keeping him on the edge of waking. By the time the morning light came peeking under his door, he was slick with sweat and more tired than he had been before he crawled into bed. He groaned into his pillow, wishing he could just stay in bed and keep trying to sleep until he got it right.

But he had promised to meet the king for breakfast.

Dragging himself out of bed, he was relieved to see a couple extra outfits had been added to his wardrobe while he had been out yesterday. He wiped away the sweat and pulled on fresh clothes, then hobbled out to the common room. A soft breeze chilled him on his way to the pitcher of water on the table and he glanced out onto the balcony. Ivy leaned against the railing, staring out over the grounds.

Warren drained a glass and was half-way through a second when she turned around and saw him. She came back inside, cheeks flushed from the cold winter morning.

"Good morning."

He nodded. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Better than you."

Warren huffed and finished his water. "Come on. We're joining the king for breakfast." Ivy followed along. The guards posted at King Aaron's door made them wait for an announcement and invitation before letting them in. Warren wondered if they would ever just let him in.

King Aaron welcomed them in and pulled out chairs for them, first Ivy, then Warren. They were invited to help themselves and then he got right into it, explaining his consort deal to Ivy in much the same way he had done so for Warren. Although, he was a little clearer about the consort title, obviously having learned from Warren. Ivy blinked, breakfast quite forgotten.

Her eyes skipped from King Aaron to Warren and back before blurting, "I like women. Not men."

King Aaron frowned. "Why does orientation keep coming up?" Warren gave him a mild look when King Aaron turned to him in question and the king huffed. "This is more of a business arrangement than a sexual relationship. You wear the title 'consort' but there are no actual obligations into my bed."

Ivy slowly bobbed her head up and down, dark ringlets bouncing. "So, we pretend for the public, and in private we merely work together to end a war and make sure the kingdom is fed."

"Correct."

She turned a shrewd look on Warren. "And you are comfortable with this? You're not afraid I'll be stealing his attentions away from you?"

Warren frowned. "I don't fill his bed any more than you do." Her quick look between him and the king was questioning, then her brow smoothed in apparent understanding and she changed the subject.

"Ah. I see. Would I be expected to stay hidden in the consort quarters until this is made official or could I move around as I see fit? How hard are the guards still looking for me and will they bring me to you before attempting to kill me?"

King Aaron went thoughtful for a moment. "I think it would probably be best if you stayed out of sight as much as possible. At least for the next few days. Duke Welling is probably still looking for you, but I can get a feel for how hard and how determined he is today. If the worst should happen, we'll be planning an official consort ceremony for the spring. At that point, I would present you as well and no one would bother you from there on out."

Ivy frowned, but she nodded in acceptance. "I can live with that. Alright. You have yourself a second consort, Your Majesty."

King Aaron smiled. Warren thought that sounded like the conclusion and got to his feet. "Unless you need me, King Aaron, I think I'll go back to bed. I didn't sleep well last night."

"He really didn't," Ivy muttered.

King Aaron opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded. "Of course. Get some rest. I hope you can join us for dinner."

Warren smiled. "Yes. I'm sure I'll be fine by then. See you there." The response seemed to satisfy King Aaron enough he relaxed. Warren took his leave and crawled back into bed. He woke periodically through the day, but he never seemed to feel any better rested. He got up for more water and threw all the covers on the floor. Another occasion had him up for more water and draining the pitcher. The covers were retrieved from the floor and he curled up in them as tightly as he could manage. He woke up when Tessa stuck her head in but was out again just as quickly. The next time he woke the pitcher was full and positioned beside his bed.

When dinner time arrived, he forced himself out of bed and dragged himself to the dining room. Dinner was not appealing, but the company was, and he found himself laughing along to Ivy's clever wit along with King Aaron. They seemed to be getting along well and had apparently managed to do a little planning. King Aaron enthusiastically related what ideas he understood and had Ivy sketch out the ones he still wasn't clear on.

Warren was almost disappointed when King Aaron was called away. Some news about a skirmish on enemy lines had come in and he needed to check it against the battle plans he and Warren had made to see if it would throw anything off. Warren didn't think so, but he applauded the king’s diligence. Ivy offered to walk Warren back to the consort wing when he wished her a good night. He shrugged, leaving the decision to her.

She slid out of her seat and took his arm. He was careful about not putting too much weight on her slighter frame until she gave him a chiding, "I won't break if you lean on me you know."

Warren chuckled at her and let a little more of his weight onto her, allowing her to steady him up to the rooms. She wished him a good night and disappeared into her own room. Warren drained another glass of water before falling into his bed.

Strange dreams plagued him all night, though he couldn't remember them when they woke him up. The strange sensation that something was wrong took root and festered. He danced with nightmares and flirted with reality, unable to choose which suited him more. When he found himself back on the battlefield, he knew something had to be wrong. Twisting and turning, he looked for a way out. A break in the war around him so he could run. He spotted an opening and lurched for it.

And found himself face down in the mud.

He clawed in a panic. The mud was swallowing him. Sucking him down to drown. It smelled like death. It was cold and slimy and slithered across him to drag him under no matter how frantically he tried to escape. A thunder of hooves jerked his gaze up and he screamed at the cavalry line, eyes dark holes and bodies aflame as they charged him down.

Reality flickered in, just as the hooves were about to crush him. His eyes opened with the last of his effort and he saw Tessa standing in his doorway, looking at him in horror. He opened his mouth, desperate to plead for her help. A pained breath escaped him, and Tessa turned to run. With a shiver, he curled into himself and wished for Death.

Perhaps the deity would see fit to take away the pain for a bit.

Caleb rushed into the room, cursing as soon as he laid eyes on Warren. A hand against the soldier’s neck confirmed what he already knew. He lifted Warren's limp body, ignoring the whine of pain as he dragged the man across his shoulders. Hefting Warren to more evenly distribute the weight, he snarled another curse when he smelled infection. He barked out orders to the girls hovering in the hall as he strode for the medical wing.

"Tessa, run ahead and get an ice bath ready. Go get the king, girl, and don't dawdle. I don't care what he's doing, get him to the medical wing. Now!"

Both girls ran off to do as bid. Caleb hauled Warren to the medical wing and wasted no time in laying him out and stripping him down. He grimaced at the angry red infection that had taken over Warren's leg. He cursed himself for not following up. Warren had hidden pain enough times Caleb knew he should have simply demanded the stubborn soldier come see him morning and evening, but he could beat himself up about it later. Right now, there were more pressing matters.

Deft fingers found the worst of it and he whispered an apology as he nicked open the wound. Warren cried out. Then he was screaming as Caleb pushed down on it. Foul smelling pus came gushing out, but Caleb was knocked away before he could do much more as Warren spasmed. The soldier fought and struggled in a delirious panic, wailing out desperate pleas for help. Caleb grit his teeth, trying to keep Warren from hurting himself or throwing himself from the table. When he recognized Warren’s search for a weapon, he hurriedly flicked the blade he had just used to the floor to keep it out of reach.

"What's going on?!"

"Hold him!"

King Aaron immediately took over, grasping Warren's wrists and draping himself over the flailing man, using his weight to keep Warren down. Right behind him, Ivy rushed in to help as well, bracing his hips down with one forearm and attempting to keep the leg Caleb wasn't working on under control. Caleb refocused on pushing out the pus. Warren screamed again, body straining and trembling, lost in fever dreams but fully aware of the pain.

King Aaron struggled to keep Warren still while Caleb worked, thoroughly but quickly, from hip to calf. "He's burning up Caleb."

"We'll get his fever down as soon as I'm done, Aaron," Caleb responded tightly.

King Aaron grit his teeth and adjusted when a hard buck almost threw him off. He wasn't sure if his voice would reach, but he decided it couldn't hurt. He angled his mouth towards Warren's ear and murmured reassurances. Promises that the pain would end, and he would recover. Warren roared, tears coursing down his face as he slammed his head back into the table, then struck forward to sink his teeth into King Aaron's shoulder.

Thick sleeves took enough of the crushing force that he didn't think Warren would break skin, but he knew it would leave a mark. The pain was bearable. He would bear it. Sparing a glance at Caleb, it looked like the physician was almost done squeezing out the built-up rot. Blood was flowing, mixing with the white and green draining out, creating a mess across the table.

Tessa came running in, calm and collected like her father as she inserted herself into the process. "The ice bath is ready. What else do you need father?"

Caleb nodded to Warren's hip. "Work your way down behind me."

She rolled up her sleeves and didn't hesitate to press her fingers into the mess, making sure blood was the only thing coming out of Warren's wound. Caleb finished his run and hurried over to rinse his hands before rattling through his things. He made a victorious sound as he came up with what he had been looking for and brought it back.

"Thought I was out," he muttered as he pried Warren's teeth off of King Aaron and slotted a bite stick between his teeth instead. A thin wand was dipped into the bottle and King Aaron helped hold Warren's head still so Caleb could get a drop swept under Warren's tongue. "Done Tessa?"

"Yes father."

"Good.” He opened up a cupboard, shoving things aside until he found the bottle he was looking for. He sent a grimace at King Aaron as he uncorked the bottle, something strongly acidic wafting through the air. “Hold him tight. This is going to hurt.” All four of them wrangled Warren’s limbs down and held him still. Caleb huffed a breath, and poured the medicine against the wound.

Warren’s scream cut King Aaron, a sharp blade of agony straight into his heart. The soldier arched, his body lifting off the table as easily as if no one were holding him at all, much less four people. Tears seeped out of tightly clenched eyes, running across his temples to disappear into his hair. Caleb’s sound of relief drew King Aaron’s attention. “Thank the gods nothing is necrotic. I don’t have to cut anything out. Bring him, Aaron."

With no one pressing on his wound or administering medicines, Warren had calmed enough King Aaron could scoop his arms beneath Warren’s back and knees to heft him up and off the table. Warren’s head lolled, one hand weakly grasping at the front of King Aaron’s tunic, gasping harshly around the bite stick that had begun to splinter at some point. Caleb wordlessly pointed towards the hip bath filled with ice water and King Aaron found himself bracing as he leaned to put Warren in. 

As soon as bare skin touched the icy water, the soldier screamed, thrashing and clinging to King Aaron's neck. Trying to climb the king to escape the water. Celeb, Tessa and Ivy all hurried to control the man’s limbs again and keep him in the tub. King Aaron fit his hands around Warren's face and braced his forearms against Warren’s shoulders. Keeping him low enough his shoulders would be in to cool but assuring he wouldn't dunk all the way under.

Warren sobbed, bite stick falling from his mouth as his entire body slowly went limp. The death grip he had taken in King Aaron’s tunic was slowly loosening, despite how desperately Warren was trying to hold on. Both his hands weakly clawed and grasped, growing weaker with every passing moment. Shivering started up soon after and King Aaron noticed his mouth was moving. Leaning in, he listened carefully to Warren's tortured whispers.

"Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know anything. Just stop. Please stop. I'll do anything you want if you stop. I can't tell you anything. I don't know. I don't know. Please, please, gods, stop."

King Aaron swallowed around the lump in his throat. Shifting his grip, he curled one hand beneath Warren's neck to keep his head above water and used his other to comb soothingly through his hair. To brush away the tears and spread cool water across his face. He whispered and murmured around the lump in his throat, praying Warren could hear him.

"I know, Warren, I know. It's almost over. Just a little more and it'll be over. It's okay. It's going to be okay. I've got you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you anymore. No more. It's almost over. I've got you. I've always got you."

Caleb snuck a hand in, pressing the back of his hand to Warren's temple. "We can pull him out after a couple more minutes. Keep his head up. The paralytic should be fully kicked in by now."

King Aaron nodded and continued to whisper his assurances and encouragements to Warren as Caleb went to find towels. He pet Warren's hair back from his face, fingers gentle across his burn scars, fading more every day. Long lashes slowly swept up, green eyes focusing with difficulty.

King Aaron noted the spark of lucidity and whispered gently. "Hey. You with me?"

Warren swallowed, rasping weakly. "It hurts."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

A blink pressed tears out onto Warren's cheeks. He closed his eyes wearily at King Aaron's touch when the king brushed them away. His voice shook as he pleaded. "I’m scared. I’m so scared. Don't let go. Please don’t let go."

"Never."

When Warren woke up, he groaned.

"Oh, you would wake up now, wouldn't you?"

Warren opened his eyes with effort and managed to focus on Caleb stalking over. The physician's face was caught between irritation and relief.

"Finally chase Aaron away to get some rest after assuring him you were unlikely to wake up and what do you do? Wake up. You're just one of those impossible patients, aren't you?"

"What happened?"

Caleb slid into a chair positioned by Warren's bedside, slumping tiredly. There were dark circles under his eyes and a rough tone to his voice that betrayed just how exhausted he was. "Tessa found you barely lucid. By the time I got there, you were in the throes of fever. I don't know how much you remember, but it wasn't good. Your wound got infected and your fever was so high I was afraid you were going to boil in your own skin."

Warren wiggled a little, trying to sit up a bit. His legs were weak, and his arms were leaden, so he soon gave up. The medical wing was only lit by lanterns and moonlight, the castle silent around them. "How long was I out?"

"A week."

"A week?!"

Caleb hummed. "I think so. For a little while I was keeping track of days by how many times Aaron and Ivy switched off watching over you. It's been a couple days since Tessa forced me into bed and she usually does that after I've been awake for two or three so..."

Warren smiled tiredly. "Ivy was here too?"

"Mm. Nice girl. Hard worker. Had to give her something to do to distract her because apparently, worry makes her tongue sharp." Warren forced his eyes open and caught Caleb giving him a soft smile. "Sleep, Warren," he said as he got up and rolled into the bed next to Warren's. "I'm certainly going to."

Warren hummed in agreement and was gone.

The next time he woke he wasn't sure if it was later that same night or if he had slept through the day. Either way, it was dark outside, and Caleb was gone. Instead, King Aaron was there, seated in the chair but slumped onto the side of the bed. It didn't look comfortable, but the king was sleeping soundly. Warren hesitated, then slowly reached up to card his fingers through the dark hair.

The touch had the king inhaling in surprise, and he lifted his head. Relief lit his expression and banished sleep from his eyes as he caught Warren's hovering hand between his own.

"Warren."

"Hey."

King Aaron let out a watery laugh. "Hey." Warren's brow furrowed and he freed his hand to brush away the tear that was marring the king’s face.

"What's this?"

The king shook his head, scrubbing his eyes and sniffling. "I'm fine. It's just... I'm just so relieved. You scared me."

Warren hummed, grasping King Aaron's wrist and giving a tug as he struggled to make some room. "C'mere. Sleep. We're both gonna be okay."

King Aaron hesitated, then crawled into bed beside Warren and wrapped around him. Warren tucked the king’s head beneath his chin, gently smoothing the dark hair a couple times before slipping back to sleep.

He woke again and King Aaron was gone. Morning had come, flooding the medical wing with light. Ivy sat by his bed, slowly paging through a book. Warren watched her for a moment. "You can read?"

His voice made her jump. She huffed in relief and glanced at her book before turning back to him. "Some. Not well yet but I'm getting better."

"Teach me?"

She chuckled and slid up onto the bed next to him. "Of course."

They were still tucked together, Warren's head leaning on Ivy's shoulder and slowly learning the alphabet, when King Aaron came down to check on them. He smiled at them both as he came over to settle in the chair by the bed.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired of being flat on my back all the time."

King Aaron nodded. Ivy sympathetically patted Warren's knee.

"Well, then, get up and start moving." All three turned to look at Caleb as he came over. "You're all healed up, and now that the infection isn't making you sick anymore, you should be ready to start strengthening that leg up again. You'll need to stretch it and slowly add more weight to it but as long as you keep working at it you should be able to walk without the crutch. Eventually."

Warren eagerly climbed out of bed, working through the weakness in his limbs if it meant an escape. King Aaron quickly jumped to his feet again, attempting to make sure Warren didn't hit the floor in his haste.

"If you'd like to start working on getting stronger right away, we could take a walk to my study. There have been some developments in the war efforts I'd like to make you aware of. Though if you're still tired..." The king cut off when Warren's gaze whipped towards him with worry.

"What happened? Did something go wrong?"

King Aaron hastened to reassure Warren. "No, nothing wrong. In fact, everything has been going exactly as you predicted. And all counter efforts have been wildly successful. I just wanted you to take another look to see if any developments strike a chord for you in the way of new orders."

Warren let out a breath and nodded. "Of course." Caleb produced clean clothes and Warren’s boots to replace the gown he’d been dressed in. King Aaron offered assistance and gently helped with Warren’s boots when asked, while Ivy watched on from her seat on the bed. Warren took the king’s arm when it was offered and sent a glance at Ivy. "Coming along Ivy?"

Ivy smiled, something conniving in her eyes and her tone entirely too sweet. "No thanks. I'll let you two catch up. See you both for dinner though." And then she gathered up her book and skipped away.

Warren's skin crawled the same way it had when he had noticed the trap his commanding officers were about to have them blunder into. A glance at the king provided him no real sense of reassurance when he took in the dirty look King Aaron was sending at Ivy's back. He noticed Warren staring and his features immediately smoothed into a smile.

"Ready?"

Warren nodded, suspicious and determined to figure out what he was missing. He took on a casual tone, starting with innocent questions to probe for the real matter. "I understand I was out for a week. You and Ivy got along well for the duration?"

"As well as we could, I suppose. We were both worried about you and we tended to only see each other while trading off sitting with you so the other could get some rest. Caleb and Tessa chased us away a couple nights, insisting we take a break and relax. We always seemed to end up talking about you though."

"Sorry to have worried you both."

King Aaron just shook his head, managing a weary smile. "I'm just glad you're better."

Warren hummed. "So, no problems other than me?"

"Not really. The councilors weren't very happy I kept hiding away in the infirmary with you, but I really didn't have the patience to deal with them."

Warren let it go for the time being. King Aaron was relaxed now and there hadn't been any evasion in his tone or words. His instincts told him whatever was going on that had felt like a trap was slowly ebbing. King Aaron led him into the study and found a chair for him, getting him settled as the latest battles were outlined. Warren easily refocused, keen gaze taking in the map with its arrangement of units and bases and enemy formations.

Putting their heads together over the map, they made a couple solid strategies and Warren tentatively put forward the hope that they could have the war concluded by the summer. King Aaron let his eyes drift across the table, contemplating. He finally reached out and tapped two fingers over a Baron's estate before dragging his fingers in a soft curve back to the castle.

"I'm planning a trip, out to Baron Williams' estate. He's forward thinking and has a fair amount of farmlands. I'll take Ivy with me and we'll try her ideas on a larger scale than her own garden. We'll stay through the planting and then return to the castle. Once we've returned, we'll hold the official ceremony to make you and Ivy my consorts."

Warren eyed King Aaron. "You make it sound like I won't be accompanying you."

Shifting uncomfortably, King Aaron attempted to meet Warren's eyes before dropping them back to the map. "I think you would be better off here, regaining your strength. And where Caleb can help you if your health suddenly declines again." Warren frowned and King Aaron huffed, stress creeping into his voice as his hands fluttered across the map subtly adjusting things, fidgeting. "You've cheated Death twice now, Warren. I don't know that you'll escape it a third."

His shoulders slumped in defeat. "How long will you be gone?"

King Aaron's face tightened, mouth thinning and eyes fixed on some undefinable point. His fingertips pressed tightly into the table, going white with the pressure. Every line of him was preparing for a fight. "A month."

"A month?!" The note of despair in Warren's voice made the king flinch. Warren chewed at the tension in the air, not liking the taste at all. He abruptly sighed and King Aaron's gaze flicked up to meet his. "How long until this trip?"

"Two weeks, assuming the snows don't blow in again and freeze us in."

Warren sullenly nodded. "Guess I should make the most of this time then. And maybe pray to Aqua and Aer for snow."

King Aaron exhaled a slow breath of relief. "Thank you." He pushed up and rounded the table, coming to stand in front of Warren. His hands framed Warren's face and lifted enough he could lean down to press their foreheads together. "Thank you, Warren. I promise I'll hurry back, but the thought of something happening, out where we might not have anyone to help you, is more terrifying than I can bear right now."

The feel of skin warm metal brushed against Warren's hairline and he chided himself. It didn't matter what he wanted. King Aaron was 'king' first and 'Aaron' second and Warren had no business making the weight on his king’s shoulders any heavier. He was supposed to be the king’s support. And the challenges the king wanted him to provide were not Warren's own fears of being stuck in a castle where no one really liked him. He should be applauding the king’s diligence to his people, not making him worry about a broken soldier with abandonment issues.

King Aaron pulled away and smiled, hands lingering against Warren's cheeks for another moment before they too pulled away. "It's getting late. We should probably join Ivy for dinner."

Warren nodded and got to his feet.

The rest of the evening passed amicably. Warren noticed that King Aaron and Ivy weren't actually that much more comfortable with each other than before he had gotten sick. They were cordial with each other, but that seemed to be the extent of it. He supposed that would change over the month they were gone together and squashed the loneliness threatening to fill his lungs. King Aaron escorted them both back to the consort quarters when they had finished eating and wished them both a good night.

Ivy offered Warren any assistance he might need, then excused herself to bed when he insisted he was fine. He crawled into bed and breathed out heavily, imagining the anxiety blowing away. It didn't really work.

Morning light creeping under his door woke him. Heeding Caleb's instructions, he carefully stretched his damaged leg. Then attempted adding weight to it. It didn't support him any better than before, though the pain was markedly less. He grabbed his crutch, but didn't do more than carry it, attempting to at least make it out of his room on his own two legs. Ivy looked up from her book where she sat at the table at his appearance, grinning at his sluggish progress. Her expression was encouraging rather than teasing however, so he didn't snap that he was doing nothing funny.

He didn't feel he was doing anything that could really be counted as progress either.

"Shall we eat here, just the two of us? Or would you rather impose on His Majesty?"

Warren made it within reach of a chair and grasped the back, steadying himself. "What have you been doing?"

Ivy shrugged. "I've eaten by myself mostly. His Majesty was very worried about you and still trying to keep up with all his duties around the castle. I would have thought the council could have stepped in to run things for a bit, but they seemed to demand his attention even more."

"They don't approve of me."

"Then they are blind fools." Ivy set aside her book and got to her feet. "Come then. In celebration of our first collective good night sleep and peaceful morning, we shall invade the king’s quarters and demand he entertain us."

Warren raised a brow, but finally nodded and made his way for the door at a snail’s pace. Ivy patiently waited, but he was sure it would be lunch by the time he made it down the hall. He set his crutch under his arm and they made better progress to the king’s door. They waited for announcement and the subsequent permission to enter outside the door, and Warren moved on his own two feet into the king’s chambers.

King Aaron smiled just as encouragingly as Ivy had, rising to pull out chairs for them and get them seated. Warren huffed, tired already and it wasn't even past breakfast.

"Exercise is good," Ivy said, "but don't strain yourself."

Warren nodded, dropping his crutch on the floor next to him for the duration of the meal. That little jaunt was probably all he had in him for the rest of the day, but he would do more tomorrow.

Despite that promise to himself, when he woke up the next morning, his muscles throbbed. He grimaced and hissed his way through getting out of bed and dressed. There was no way he would be using his leg today. Tomorrow. He would exercise again tomorrow.

But tomorrow came and he still hurt. He managed some stretching and called that good. Ivy asked him why he wasn’t trying to walk without his crutch and he found excuses. Her scowl was ignored to the best of his ability.

He would soon learn Ivy was not to be ignored.

She blocked his path as he attempted to exit his room a couple days later, scowling at him.

“What?”

“You haven’t been exercising. And I’d bet good gold coins you haven’t been stretching either.”

Warren huffed, attempting to slide past her. “I’m just working on it slowly. I’d rather not end up in Caleb’s infirmary again. I’m going to start exercising it again when it doesn’t hurt quite as much.”

“It’s going to keep hurting until you build up your strength. Sit down and I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need help, Ivy.”

“Just sit down!”

“Ivy! Hey, knock it off! Let go!”

Ivy did not let go. And her attempts to force him onto the couch resulted in a glancing miss that put him on the floor with her on top of him. She still refused to be dissuaded. Her knees slotted between his thighs and she hooked her arm under his knee, ready to push it up towards his chest. Warren made a panicked cry, anticipating pain.

“Don’t be a baby. We’ll start slow. Just push into me nice and gentle. It might hurt at first but then it’ll be fine.”

The sound of a throat clearing had them both looking towards the door. King Aaron cocked his head with an amused smile.

“Am I interrupting?”

Warren took in their positions and reconsidered Ivy’s words, flushing at the implication. Ivy either missed it or chose not to acknowledge it.

“No. Come help me hold him down, Your Majesty.”

King Aaron choked.

Warren wailed. “Don’t you dare! Get her off of me!” He bucked and wiggled. Ivy just threw herself into him in an attempt to keep him down. The move had his knee jerking up towards his chest too fast and he yelped. King Aaron strode across the room immediately and hefted Ivy off.

“Now Ivy, dear. Gently. Warren, you stay right there.”

Warren dropped his shoulders back to the floor from where he had been attempting to get up. He tried not to feel betrayed as Ivy smirked at him. King Aaron gently sat Ivy down and did some arranging with a pillow so Warren was propped up in her lap. He settled on the floor next to Warren’s leg next, pulling the damaged limb into his lap to work off Warren’s boot.

“Try to relax Warren.”

“But it hurts.”

“And when you were learning to wield a sword it was easy? There were never any occasions where you ended the day sore and woke up in pain?” King Aaron raised a brow at Warren’s pout, soft smile pulling the corner of his mouth up. “It’s not going to be easy. You’ll have to start over, training your body to do what it already knew. But I know you can do it. You’re stubborn and determined. Enough to chase me down on foot, underdressed for the weather and half dead. You can do this.”

Warren hissed as King Aaron gently wrapped warm hands around his leg, one at his ankle while the other began to apply a firm pressure to his calf. He swept the grip up and back down in an easy pace, watching Warren carefully for any hints of pain. Warren bit his lip.

The sweeping press against his muscles ached. He was sure it would have felt good under better circumstances, but for now it was just a low throbbing pain. Ivy reached down, offering her hand to hold. Warren wasn’t proud enough to ignore the offer of comfort and took it, holding on. King Aaron smoothly worked the muscles under his strong fingers, until the throbbing had dulled somewhat. When his fingers slid over Warren’s heel to begin working against his arch, Warren groaned.

Now that felt good.

King Aaron smiled. “A little pleasure, to make the pain worth it.”

Warren wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed at that or not. Ivy’s giggle told him he probably should, but the hard press into his arch distracted him in the best way. He had finally relaxed when King Aaron slid his broad hand back up Warren’s leg, spending a couple strokes against his calf before moving higher. Warren shifted, undecided on how he should feel. King Aaron’s fingers pressed into the back of his thigh while his palm warmed the inside. He slowly worked his way higher, kneading out the tension and quietly apologizing whenever Warren winced.

When the king deemed him done, Warren was gently manipulated, leg bending and stretching under King Aaron’s careful guidance. Warren watched the kings concentrated efforts until a pat to his ankle signified the conclusion.

“There. We’ll call that good for today. But you have to do that every day. And start leaving the crutch behind. Ivy and I can help you, if you want. It’s no trouble.” The irritation and embarrassment must have showed because the king continued after a beat. “I know it frustrates you to be moving so slow, but we really don’t mind.”

Warren slowly nodded. “Alright. Thank you, King Aaron.”

“Of course, Warren.” He picked himself up off the floor and helped Ivy get Warren onto his feet. “Now, who’s hungry?”

Under Ivy and King Aaron's watchful eyes, Warren was forcibly put on the path to good habits. King Aaron happily supplied his talents working out the tension in Warren’s leg. Ivy was incredibly good at encouraging Warren to keep with his exercising, whether he needed it to be blunt, gentle, chiding, coaxing or downright hostile. The occasion where she stole his crutch and made him chase her down the hall provided a sudden realization that he was indeed making progress just when he was ready to give up on one notable day.

Her encouragements extended beyond regaining the use of his leg. She was also determined to help him progress his skills reading. And if she could manage both at the same time she would.

Warren sighed as he flipped the page and continued to mangle the fairytale Ivy had requested he read to her while she kneaded the muscles in his calf. “She ch- chased the blue jay th- thr-”

“Through,” Ivy provided questioningly. Warren nodded, reaching behind him to adjust the pillow between his shoulders and the headboard of his bed.

“Through the woods. Until she came to the…very place she had…first seen him.” Warren dropped the book down to his chest to look at Ivy over it. “Why exactly did you pick this story?”

“It’s a nice story,” she defended herself indignantly.

“So you know how it ends.”

Ivy just smiled, strong fingers sliding up to press into the back of his knee. She shifted a little, adjusting his foot in her lap to reach better. “What’s wrong with a love story with a happy ending? Why shouldn’t the quiet maiden be able to fall in love with a kind-hearted man, and then find a way to tell him how she feels even if she can’t get her tongue to work in his presence?”

Warren smirked, lifting the book up again and finding his place. “You never seem to have a problem getting your tongue to work so I don’t know why this particular story appeals to you so much.”

A soft laugh escaped her at the teasing. “Maybe I just like that she used sweet smelling plants to catch her love’s attention rather than some flashy trinket. Or worse, her body.”

“Well I’m just glad you knew the word ‘sachet’ because I was about to give up and throw this book across the room.” He took in a breath to finish reading the story and plodded his way through to the happy ending. When he was done, he set the book aside and reached for the water left within reach instead. He sipped at the water and regarded Ivy as she quietly worked her way up his thigh. “Are you in love with anyone?”

Ivy raised her head, blinking at him in surprise. A half smile pulled at her mouth as a glint of amusement filled her dark eyes. “Why ask me that?”

Warren shrugged, hiding a wince when she pressed into sore muscles. “I don’t know. I guess…I just hate the idea of you getting into this consort thing if there’s someone out there you love. You should be happy, and free to love who you like. Not just agreeing to bind yourself to King Aaron to avoid some idiot attempting to falsely try you for demoncraft.”

“What about you then? Aren’t you binding yourself to His Majesty, just to give yourself a way to keep fighting? Don’t you deserve love too?”

“Do you always answer questions with more questions?”

“No.”

Warren sighed at the flippant look she was giving him, amused despite himself. “I don’t mind spending the rest of my life with King Aaron. And not just because he gave me a way to keep fighting. He’s kind and considerate and he’s never looked at me like I’m something broken. He’s my friend. A brother at arms. If he hadn’t offered me this deal, I probably would have ended up sharing a house with my friends from my military unit, so it’s not like he’s completely upended my life.”

Ivy smiled. “I wasn’t in love with anyone back home. Actually I was bored. But there seems to be no shortage of interesting things going on here and like you say, His Majesty is kind. I didn’t agree to this little union just to save my own skin. I did it because… Well, because I really liked you, if I’m honest.”

She giggled when Warren raised his brows in surprise. Nodding, she swept her palm down his shin and leaned over his leg to prop her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand, apparently done. “You took me seriously. Weren’t patronizing in the least when I threatened you and didn’t accuse me of lying. And I may not share quite the same level of patriotism and love for this kingdom as you, but there are certainly people I want to see well fed and cared for. If I can help with that, then it doesn’t seem such a hardship to call myself consort and live in a castle with a good king and a fellow consort who will treat me as an equal.”

Warren slowly grinned. “Well, I’m glad to have someone to call equal. Even if you do make me read you sappy love stories.” He chuckled when she huffed in mock annoyance and ran her fingernail up the inside of his arch, tickling him.

“Fine! You don’t want to read then get off your lazy arse and we’ll go for a walk. All the way around the castle!”

Warren moaned at the threat. “How about just to the baths?”

Ivy considered, then nodded in agreement. “Alright. To the baths then.”

All too soon, the two weeks before King Aaron’s departure with Ivy were coming to a close. And with no heavy snow fall to impede them, preparations were made for the journey. King Aaron arranged for a dinner and one last night to spend time together before they would leave the next morning for a month. Warren settled in at the king’s right, determined not to sulk all night. Caleb sat down on his other side and Ivy sat across. Tessa had been invited, but declined politely, citing that she was busy.

Warren thought it was more to do with the fact that this dinner was practically courting, what with Ivy and himself set to be officially inducted as King Aaron’s consorts in a month. Caleb’s presence only minorly distracted from that. And the king’s ever-present guards, but they were good at blending into the background and remaining unnoticed.

The conversation flowed naturally, until Warren could almost forget he would be left all on his own for the next month. The wine flowed too, which also helped Warren forget.

“You won’t be completely alone. I’ll still be here. So will Tessa.” Caleb reminded him.

“You’ll both be busy,” Warren muttered.

King Aaron smiled. “Busy making sure you stay out of trouble.” Caleb scoffed into his wineglass and nodded emphatically. Warren inhaled to argue and was interrupted. “Just keep up with your exercises and try to stay out of trouble. The castle should still be standing when I return.”

Sighing, Warren rolled his eyes. “I don’t have the ability to knock down the castle.”

“Don’t you?” Ivy asked sweetly.

“I’m feeling incredibly attacked right now.”

King Aaron laughed, reaching out to pat Warren’s wrist where it rested on the table. “We’re just teasing you Warren. I’m sure everything will be fine until we return. And we won’t be gone any longer than necessary.”

Warren slowly nodded. His gaze strayed to Ivy and his brow furrowed when he noticed her grinning into her wineglass and sending a knowing look at Caleb. Warren looked at Caleb just in time to catch the physician winking back at her.

He failed to understand the joke. Perhaps it was something they had shared while he was bed-ridden.

King Aaron pulled his hand back, drawing Warren’s attention once more. The king leaned back while empty plates were collected and dessert was laid out. The subject moved on to other things as the king lamented one of his stops on their planned trip. Caleb sympathized, grimacing at the thought of whichever baron they both detested. Ivy began asking questions of who she should probably avoid to be safe and there was a handful of names that Warren only knew half of.

Caleb must have caught Warren’s lost look because he extended a warning. “Don’t worry about Ivy. You’ll have enough people to avoid here. Half the nobility in the castle is only here to secure some sort of elevation from the king. You represent a usurper that has managed to gain the highest elevation of all.” Caleb glared at King Aaron when he fidgeted. “I’ll look after him, Your Majesty, you just focus on your mission for leaving in the first place.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Caleb just nodded, finishing off his wine and pushing back from the table. “Yes, yes. Send my regards to her ladyship Isabelle.”

King Aaron inhaled in horror. “Why would you even wish that hag upon me?!” Caleb’s laughter echoed behind him as he left the hall, wishing them all a good night. The story of the lady Isabelle’s unwanted advances had all three in stitches, and King Aaron told them stories well into the night. When exhaustion finally forced them to bed, the king walked them back to their quarters and wished them a good night.

Warren hesitated in his quest for his bed when Ivy laid a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he raised a brow in question. Ivy smiled. “You’re going to be okay, Warren. And don’t worry about me and His Majesty.”

“Why would I be worried about you and King Aaron?”

Ivy chuckled, shaking her head. “No reason I suppose. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel jealous. I don’t intend to steal His Majesty’s affections away from you.”

Warren just smiled shaking his head. “I’m not worried about that. Just make sure he comes back alive for me? We’re both rather dependent on him at the moment.”

Ivy laughed, nodding in agreement. “You can count on me. Good night Warren.”

“Good night Ivy.”

Morning arrived and along with it, the flurry of a royal send-off. Warren hovered behind Ivy, ready if anyone tried to mess with her while King Aaron’s back was turned. She slipped her hand into his, the slightest tremor redirecting his attention. Her warm riding habit kept her from being cold, and his own vigilant protection had never dissatisfied her before, yet that quiver remained.

“You okay?”

“I was kind of hoping there would be a carriage.”

Warren looked up and around, noting the company mounting up to ride out. He hadn’t noticed a lack of carriage, because King Aaron hadn’t used one to tour the front lines or for the ride back to the castle. “Why?”

“Because I’ve never ridden a horse.”

Warren shrugged. “They’re not difficult to learn how to control. Most of them don’t even need that. They’re herd animals. They prefer to stay with the other horses.” Ivy pressed into him a little tighter as someone started towards her, leading a dappled grey mare. “It’ll be fine, Ivy.”

Ivy whimpered, drawing Warren’s sharp gaze in alarm. She swallowed hard, shivering, eyes fixed on the docile beast drawing closer to them. “I’ve never ridden a horse because they terrify me.”

Warren hummed in understanding. He shifted a bit, tugging Ivy around to face him. “Ivy, it’s okay. If King Aaron had anything to say about it, he chose the nicest horse in the stable for you. You can do this.” He hobbled and hopped to intercept the horse before the stable boy could overwhelm Ivy, accepting the reins instead.

He gently pet the mare’s nose, stroked the powerful neck and patted her shoulder. He crooned and soothed for a moment, getting a feel for the mare’s temperament. He didn’t know if King Aaron had actually had anything to do with the choice of horse, but he knew she was a sweetheart even from just a couple minutes.

An offered hand and a coaxing beckon had Ivy steeling herself and stepping forward. She gingerly lifted a hand, flinching and hesitant, just barely touching the mare’s nose before pulling back. She frowned, eyes flitting to Warren’s and away in discomfort. “You’re going to tease me mercilessly about this, aren’t you.”

Warren shook his head. “Not about this. I’ll tease you about how you snore, and the way you put your books into time-out when you get frustrated reading. But not about this.”

Ivy’s soft smile and grateful look faded back into a wariness directed at the placid mare.

“Hey.” Ivy looked up at Warren’s gentle tone. “If I can walk, you can ride a horse.”

Ivy licked her lips, eyeing the horse again. The mare whickered and Ivy flinched, then glared. The mare only stared serenely back.

“Something wrong?”

They turned as King Aaron came up, looking between them curiously. Warren glanced at Ivy. “Ivy…isn’t fond of horses.”

“Do I need to make other arrangements?”

Ivy took in a deep breath and let it out. She lifted her chin, threw back her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at the mare. “No. Warren’s going to walk. And I’m not going to be afraid of horses anymore.” She rounded the horse and stepped up to her side, casting a look at the king. “Help me up.”

King Aaron glanced at Warren. Warren could only shrug as he held the mare steady. King Aaron fit his hands around Ivy’s waist, gave her one last questioning look, and at her nod, lifted her into the saddle.

Ivy shivered, obviously fighting nerves as she reached for the reins. Warren gave them to her, showing her how to hold them and giving her brief instruction on how a minimum of force was required to guide the mare. Ivy clenched her shaky fingers around the leads and fixed Warren with a hard look. There was a quaver in her voice, but not a single intention of compromise.

“When we come back, I won’t be afraid of horses and you’ll be walking.”

Warren chuckled, reaching up to pat her knee. “Yes, Your Highness.”

It got a soft huff out of her. “I rather like that.” Warren and King Aaron laughed, then they turned towards each other, sobering.

King Aaron reached out, curling a gentle hand around the side of Warren’s neck. He was warm. Callused fingers firm. His fingertips carded through the hair at Warren’s nape for a moment before slowly pulling him in. Warren let himself be embraced, wrapping his arms around the king in return. King Aaron murmured in Warren’s ear, soft and affectionate. Wistful, almost.

“I’m going to miss you, my friend.”

Warren swallowed, tightening his grip around the king’s broad shoulders for just a moment. “I’ll miss you too, my King.” They reluctantly pulled away and Warren fixed King Aaron with a stern look. “Be safe. Take care of yourselves and hurry back to me.”

King Aaron smiled, a note of teasing slipping into his voice. “Of course, Your Highness.” Warren chuckled, shaking his head.

He looked up at Ivy and reached for her hand, kissing her knuckles when she gave it to him, before backing up a step to make room. “Good travels you both.”

They nodded and King Aaron led Ivy and her mare away to mount up and start moving. Warren watched as the company headed out, lifting his hand in farewell when King Aaron twisted back to wave one last time. Ivy managed a glance and a hesitant smile his way, then turned back to watching her mare closely.

He stood in the courtyard and watched them ride out of sight long after many of the other people sending them off had drifted away. He told himself the sense of abandonment was unnecessary. They were coming back. He wasn’t alone. There was no reason for him to feel adrift.

The chill that settled across his skin had nothing to do with the cool spring morning.


	3. Greed and Charity

“You don’t belong here.”

Warren turned to look at the well-dressed woman standing next to him, watching where the royal procession had disappeared. Her eyes glittered with a cold light as she appraised him. He grinned at her.

“Oh, I don’t think you realize how much I find myself questioning why I’m here. But King Aaron seems to have a use for me.”

His ease seemed to irritate her. Her biting words were meant to hurt. “Use, yes. But does he care for you? I don’t think so. Certainly not after that pretty little thing distracts him for a month. Perhaps you should just leave, spare yourself the pain when he comes back and has forgotten all about you.”

Warren smirked. “Your concern for me is appreciated. I think I can manage, though, whether he forgets me or not.”

The woman snarled, pushing into his space and invading his senses with her sweet perfume, swishing silks, and cutting words. “I suggest you disappear. His Majesty shouldn’t be wasting his time with you, and the sooner he finds himself a proper noblewoman to marry the better. You can’t be what the king needs. And even if he has lost his mind and convinced himself he wants you, eventually the spell will break. Save him the embarrassment of having to deal with you when the novelty of the pitiable rough wears off.”

Warren felt a bitter gall rising. His smile was becoming harder to maintain. It was easy to laugh about undesired advances in wine-soaked late-night company. By the hungover light of morning, those greedy desires were much less amusing. He gave the woman a slow look up and down. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but I don’t believe you’re the best option for healthy children either.”

Her face colored even as she gave him a vicious smile. “Not me, foolish man. My daughter. She deserves the world. Catching herself a king is a magnificent start.”

Warren grinned, leaning in just a hint closer and watching the way she tensed in a desire to pull away. “Then your daughter can attempt to court His Majesty herself. I welcome the challenge of those worthy enough to take my place as first consort. She has a month. Best use all her feminine wiles.” Then Warren pulled away and spun, walking as steadily and as quickly as he could. Once back inside the castle, he sighed and shook his head.

“Barely gone and I’ve already gotten into a fight.”

Not sure what else to do, Warren went down to the medical wing. Caleb looked up from where he was writing notes in a journal and reading reports at Warren’s arrival, concern crossing his face.

“What happened?”

Warren quickly shook his head. “I’m fine. Just exercising.”

Caleb glanced down at Warren’s slow but steady progress, then back up into his eyes. “Yes. Good. But what happened?”

There was a hesitation, then Warren sighed. He took the seat Caleb toed out for him and recounted his conversation with the woman. Caleb grimaced, leaning back in his chair as deft fingers rolled his quill slowly.

“Sounds like you handled it alright.” He cocked his head when Warren continued to frown down at the floor. “Are you worried King Aaron will forget you?”

Warren’s eyes jerked up to Caleb, and he shook his head. “No. No, I’m not worried about that.” His gaze fell back down to his fingers wrapped around his crutch laid against one knee. “I guess I’m worried about him… I don’t know. Something bothers me. I just can’t quite figure out what. I know he’ll take care of me and I know he won’t do anything to jeopardize the fate of his kingdom. I don’t think he’ll allow himself into a marriage that stands to only gain him misery, even if he needs an heir or a political connection. I just…”

He finally shook his head again, going quiet.

Caleb hummed in understanding, leaning back over his desk and shuffling aside the papers he had been working on. He made one last note in his leather-bound journal and then put away his quill. “Try not to worry for the whole month. And when King Aaron gets back, you can talk about all this with him. Maybe that will help you figure it out. Or at least appease some of your worries, even if you’re not sure of the cause.”

Warren nodded. “Right.”

“Until then, maybe stay away from the ambitious ladies?”

Warren grinned.

That night, he took dinner in his quarters. As Tessa finished setting everything out for him he invited her to join him. Her freeze and the smile falling from her lips had him faltering in surprise.

“I would, Warren. But I…” She took in a breath, straightening and folding her hands in front of her. “I don’t believe that would look appropriate to an outside observer, Your Highness.”

Warren winced. “Right. Sorry. I didn’t think- I wasn’t thinking.” He bit his lip. Tessa laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Perhaps you could start taking dinner with my father and me? It will be later than you’re used to, but we would be pleased if you’d like to join us.”

Managing a smile, Warren nodded. “Thank you, Tessa.”

“Of course, Warren.”

Warren ate alone and went to bed early. The next morning, he briefly considered the possibilities of sleeping through the rest of the month. Then he hauled himself out of bed and put himself through his stretches. He had a promise to keep to Ivy. And he refused to be bullied by ambitious nobility.

A week passed without much excitement. He kept to himself as he explored the castle, took dinner with Caleb and Tessa, spent a couple nights practicing reading, and counted down the days. He was just beginning the thirteenth day without King Aaron and Ivy when there came a heavy knock on his door. He sent a questioning look at Tessa and got a confused glance back. Tessa raised a brow and gestured towards the door, then went to open it when Warren nodded.

She gave him a concerned look as she opened the door wide and let in a pair of guards, dragging a third young man along with them. Warren got to his feet, surprise and unease and a hundred questions in his mind.

The guards pushed the young man down to his knees between them. He was panting in fear, head bowed and darting eyes scared. A gag had been tied in his mouth and his hands were bound behind his back. He was trembling. The bruises and dried blood spoke of violence, though not recent. His dirty, disheveled clothes reeked of long hours on the road with no time to wash. His auburn hair was greasy, and he could do with a set of clothes that weren’t threadbare, as well.

“Your Highness?”

Warren’s head jerked up, refocusing on the guard that had spoken. He sent one last confused glance at the young man shivering on the floor before demanding an explanation. “What is all this?”

The soldier bowed respectfully. “A message from the king. He gave us explicit instructions to deliver this boy to you and only you, as well as this.” He withdrew an envelope, addressed to Warren in the kings flowing script and sealed with the royal imprint.

Warren limped forward to get it. The guard met him halfway and handed it over.

“Do you need anything else from us?”

Warren shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. Thank you.” Both guards bowed and took their leave. The young man, they left on his knees in the middle of Warren’s quarters. Warren stared at him for a moment, but the boy was refusing to lift his head. Tessa just shrugged helplessly when he glanced at her, so he broke the seal on the envelope and withdrew the missive.

He struggled a bit over the words, though it was clear King Aaron had attempted to keep it as simple to read as possible.

_My dearest Warren,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits. Our travels have been safe thus far, and more productive than I had first dared hope. I expect we shall be able to return home in the predicted time, if not a little sooner. Ivy and I miss you, but it would appear fortunate you remained at the castle._

_I have instructed my men to deliver this letter, and a young man to you. This young man, Daniel, was imprisoned and awaiting execution in Lord Rixton’s dungeon for the crime of the theft of some priceless family heirlooms. The Lord thought I would be pleased to watch the execution, but I have informed him the punishment would be better carried out at the castle. The Lord has implied incorrectly but it suits my purposes. I send Daniel to you. I think after talking with him, you will know what to do with him. Please look after him until my return._

_As gifts go, I believe this is a poor one. Perhaps I can find something else to bring you that you will enjoy a little more. I miss you, Warren. And I look forward to the time our parting has come to an end. Please be patient and wait for me._

_Sincerely, and forever yours, Aaron._

_P.S. Ivy wishes me to inform you she has made progress on conquering her fears and hopes you are keeping your promise as well._

Warren looked up from the letter and his brow furrowed in confusion. A thief? What was he supposed to do with a thief?

He looked the letter over again and then set it aside. Limping closer, he reached down and untied the gag from the young man’s mouth. “Your name is Daniel?”

“Aye, Your Highness.” His low born brogue was soft and scared.

“And you have been sentenced to death for the theft of several priceless heirlooms?”

Daniel shuddered, cowering as his voice went soft and wavering. “Aye, Your Highness.”

“Are you hungry?” Daniel looked up at Warren in surprise, confusion twisting his features before his blue eyes widened and he dropped his head again. “Speak truthfully Daniel.”

“Aye, Your Highness.”

He flinched when Warren pulled out a knife, but the surprise was soon back as Warren cut his hands loose and limped back to the table. “Come sit. Have some breakfast and talk with me.” Daniel shakily got to his feet and gingerly sat down, leaving a space between himself and Warren. He jumped when Tessa served him, but slowly began to focus on the food with a ravenous look in his eyes. Yet he didn’t move to touch it. Not until Warren gave a quiet, “eat.”

Daniel ate, desperately shoving food in his mouth with complete disregard for silverware and gulping it down. It was a method of eating Warren had seen before. The quick inhale of the starving who knew it was best to get it down before it could be stolen. The frantic overeating with disregard for the consequences of an overstuffed gut because they didn’t know when or where the next meal was coming from.

“Tell me about yourself Daniel. You have family?”

Daniel hesitated, taking a moment to actually chew as he considered. Warren understood that hesitation and reassured the young man.

“I don’t mean them harm. You don’t have to tell me where they are, just something about them.”

Daniel washed down his mouthful with some water. “I’m the eldest of six. Ma does what she can to support us but Da is always deep in his cups and takes more than he brings in. I tried to do what I could to help.”

“So you started out picking pockets?” At Daniel’s confirming nod, Warren cocked his head. “And how did you work your way up to stealing heirlooms?”

Daniel shrugged. “Happened to hear ‘bout a reward for a brooch I’d just lifted. The Lady was going to give away almost what the gem was worth anyways, so I returned it and took the reward. Gave her a halfway believable lie and watched her eat it up. Got me to thinking, I guess. What would the rich give to buy their own shit back.” He paled when the curse slipped out. Warren just smiled.

“I used to be a soldier. I’ve heard any oath you have, I’m sure. But let’s not curse in front of the lady.”

Tessa snorted, providing her opinion on that as she moved through with a basket of laundry.

Warren refocused on Daniel. “So you moved from picking pockets to breaking into mansions and castles. How did you know what the expensive items were?”

Daniel gulped down the sausage he had just stuffed into his mouth and hesitated halfway through scraping up whatever was left on his plate with some bread. “I just…knew?” He shrugged, finishing up cleaning his plate of every morsel and gulping that down too. “There were a couple times I got it wrong but not often.”

Warren considered, chin in his hand as he watched Daniel licking his lips and fingers. “I need twenty warhorses to mount my company. The stabler is charging me twenty gold a head. Fair?”

Daniel frowned. “Only if he’s giving you saddle, bridle and armor too. Good healthy warhorses average about twelve to fourteen with a generous profit. Pretty sure.”

Warren nodded. “I provide the steel to a blacksmith and pay him fifty silver to make me a hundred swords in three days.”

“You’re cheating the blacksmith.”

“Why? I’ve given him the steel and paid him for it. Sounds like everything is coming out of my pocket.”

Daniel shook his head. “Not with only three days to do it. He’ll have to hire on help if you want decent swords and depending on the space he’s got, maybe broker deals with other smiths to get the order done in time. Could cost him less than your fifty silver but I’d bet not. More likely to cost him that and more.”

The young man shifted uncomfortably when he noticed Warren’s grin. Warren wasn’t quite done just yet. “I’ve got a hundred head of cattle. But I don’t have the grazeland for them, so I need to part with some of them. I want to trade for grain from the farmlands to the east and the mountaineers have agreed to keep my cattle in the lower mountain ranges, grazing them there in exchange for working the ores they’ve collected from their mines.”

Daniel considers for a moment. “Drive the cattle to the mountains. Use a couple to haul the ore to the farmlands, where delivery of the unworked metals can be traded for grain. The farmlands will work the ore into what the mountaineers need and keep the surplus and perhaps a couple cattle for what they need.”

Warren chuckles. King Aaron had been right. A short conversation and he knew exactly what to do with Daniel. “Can you read and write Daniel? Do figures?”

Daniel shook his head, but Warren had sort of been expecting that. “That’s alright. You’ll learn. Finished?” Daniel nodded so Warren got to his feet. “Good. Follow me.” He led the way out of his quarters and down to the infirmary. Daniel meekly followed, quickly and quietly. Caleb looked up from treating a little boy with a cough when they arrived and mutely directed them towards their usual private corner. Warren patted the bed and bid Daniel sit while he set aside his crutch and half fell into a chair.

They quietly waited until Caleb was done and came to see what they needed. “Morning Caleb. This is Daniel. King Aaron sent him to me with a letter asking I look after him until His Majesty returns. Would you mind looking him over for me?”

Caleb frowned. “Is this another addition?”

“Quite probably.”

The physician sighed and Daniel looked between them, confused. Shaking his head, Caleb muttered something about this whole business getting out of hand. But he had Daniel strip down so he could check for injuries and any other problems.

“Well?” Warren asked when Caleb stepped back.

“He needs a bath and a few steady meals. Otherwise, he’s fine.”

Daniel swallowed, opening his mouth to speak. He flinched when Warren and Caleb both looked at him but managed to squeak out. “You mean, I’m not going to be executed?”

Caleb sent a horrified look at Warren, darkening when the soldier grimly nodded. He turned back to Daniel. “How old are you?”

“Um, sixteen, I think?”

Caleb visibly throttled the desire to growl in anger. He turned and snapped at Warren instead, attempting not to terrify Daniel. “Explain to the boy he’s safe with us and what exactly it is King Aaron has sent him here for. Clearly. So he has some time to process all this.” Then he turned away and stalked off.

Warren smiled after the man. “Get dressed Daniel.”

The young man hurriedly did as told and followed along quietly as Warren went back to his quarters. Warren dug out fresh clothes he hoped would fit the young man’s slighter frame. Then they were headed down to the baths to get Daniel clean. Warren moved towards the back of the cavern, picking out a couple soaps on his way through and finally setting them up in a little sitting area to get undressed.

Daniel was nervous again, but he did as he was told without question. Warren attempted to keep his damaged leg turned away from the boy, but he was fairly certain he was fighting a losing battle. Stripped to the skin, he grabbed up the soaps and stepped underneath one of the little waterfalls streaming down that fed the hot spring basins.

Leading by example, he poured out a little of the soap and started scrubbing his hair before offering it to Daniel. The boy took the bottle and eagerly started washing off the buildup of dirt and oils of who knew how long. Warren took a bar of soap to his skin next and was soon clean. Daniel was going to take a little longer, so Warren left him to it and went to soak in the hot water until the boy was done.

He was just relaxing into the sleepy haze, eyes closed and head back against the lip of the basin, when the water sloshed next to him with the entry of another body. He smiled at the sound of Daniel’s hiss of surprise, then his following sigh of bliss. “Feel better?”

“Aye, Your Highness.”

“Then I guess we should talk about why you’re here.” Warren heard the shuddering breath exhaled next to him.

“Aye, Your Highness.”

A soft hand slipped over his thigh and delved between legs. Warren’s eyes flew open in shock and he leaped to his feet. The water sloshed and his leg gave out when he put weight on it too fast, unbalancing him enough to go splashing into the spring. He flailed, finally getting his feet under him to come up for air. Gasping and sputtering, he shook the water from his eyes and blinked at Daniel.

With a panicked inhale, Warren retreated as Daniel advanced, sliding through the water and reaching for Warren’s hips. Warren hit the other side of the basin and hefted himself up to sit, yelping as Daniel hovered in front of him. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Daniel’s hands shook, hovering in the air above Warren’s knees, looking confused and scared and desperate. “I… This isn’t why I’m here? It’s okay if you’d rather just get on with it. I like men so I know how to make it good for you, but if you would rather-”

Warren flailed again, eager for the young man to stop speaking. “Whoa, no! It’s great that you like men, but I don’t! No, no, no! Stop, just…” Warren pointed a little frantically. “Just back up, sit down, and let me talk.” Daniel hurried to do as told, sitting with his hands in his lap and shoulders hunched. Warren slid back down to sit in the water, running his fingers through his hair to slick it back out of his face. “Did King Aaron say anything about why he was sending you to me?”

Daniel meekly glanced up through his lashes before looking back down into his lap. “Not- Not directly. But I heard him say I would be a good company for you. That you would enjoy looking after me until he got back.”

Warren groaned, casting his eyes heavenward and praying for strength. “Good gods. I’m going to kill that man when he gets home.” He sighed deeply and refocused on Daniel. “When he said company, he only meant someone to talk with. He would never force you to do something you don’t want to. He certainly wouldn’t make you have sex with a scarred up soldier like me.”

Daniel frowned at that, looking confused. “So then, what am I here for?”

“You’re going to help the king get his treasury straightened out. The finances are a mess, with the war going on and council members requesting funds be sent to a hundred different places and people with little to no explanation for why. King Aaron needs someone who knows the worth of things and can tell him when exchanges are fair. You seem to have a good head for that. In both goods and coin. And I'm betting you know exactly how much coin it takes to keep a family fed and cared for; better than his high born, filthy rich council members ever will. You do that for him, and he’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I would bet, he could even make arrangements for your ma and all your siblings too.”

Daniel’s eyes had gone wide. His mouth had gone a little slack and it was clear he believed this was all too good to be true. Warren knew the feeling.

“It’s going to be a lot of work,” Warren cautioned. “But King Aaron can make it worth it for you. And he won’t demand anything you’re not absolutely willing to give. You don’t have to make a decision now. You’ve got about three weeks before he’ll be back anyways. Just think about it until then. I’ll try to answer any questions you might have.”

Daniel slowly nods.

Warren eyes him. “If I come back over there, are you going to keep your hands to yourself?” Daniel quickly nods again, a soft smile and a shy look flicking Warren’s way before he ducks his head again. Warren huffs, hesitating for a moment, then sloshes his way back over to sit down next to the boy.

“Th- thank you, Your Highness.”

“Just Warren. It’s fine if you call me Warren.” Daniel looks like he can’t even imagine using anything less than the utmost respect he possibly can, so Warren decides he won’t insist if the young man slips up. Or decides he just can’t. He has yet to hear Ivy call King Aaron anything less than ‘Your Majesty’ after all.

Daniel ultimately compromises with a ‘Prince Consort Warren’, which Warren feels is rather long winded, but at least the boy is trying. He takes the room across from Warren’s and is quiet as a mouse unless spoken too.

Warren almost feels like he’s adopted a duckling, the way the boy follows him everywhere. But he can’t complain too much. Daniel is cheerful and eager to please, easily chattering away in his rough brogue once Warren can get him relaxed enough to talk. The boy is doing just that a few days later, pacing patiently alongside Warren on his morning walk and recounting one of his more perilous thefts when an icy voice cuts across his.

“I could have sworn I warned you to leave, not bring in a dirty little friend.”

Warren turns to give the woman a mild look, half stepping between her and Daniel. “Was that a warning? I thought it was merely a suggestion. Which is why I ignored it. Although, I find it interesting you are bold enough to threaten a future Prince Consort.”

The woman scoffs, smile cruel. “Oh, I haven’t begun to threaten you yet, _your highness._ That would be the point of today’s conversation. Leave the castle. Get out and leave His Majesty to those of us who know how to please him. To those of us who stand a chance at being anything more than an amusement. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure His Majesty can only feel disgust for you.”

Warren stiffens. His smile is gone. But an icy calm is in his chest as he steps up to the woman, speaking low and firm. “You don’t scare me, my lady. Nothing you can possibly come up with can scare me. Because despite all the back-stabbing games you play in court, you’re still a soft, pampered pussy cat. Your claws and teeth might be sharp, but I’ve stared Death in the face. I’ve stood in Hell’s throne room and they spat me back out. Bite and scratch all you like. The weight of your greed for power will never outweigh my loyalty to my king.”

He tilted his head in a mocking bow and gave her a smile as vicious and dangerous as her own. Then he spun and hurried Daniel away. She spat at his back, unwilling to let him get away with the last word again.

“Get out of the castle, or I’ll make sure you regret it!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Warren cast back over his shoulder. Then they were around a corner and gone. Daniel gasped in a nervous excitement, asking a flood of questions that he apparently expected no answers for as he never paused for breath, much less for Warren to get a word in edgewise. Warren finally grasped the boy by the collar, spinning him and clapping a hand over his mouth. “Daniel. Breathe.”

Daniel nodded, blue eyes still wide. Warren pulled his hand away and continued their progress down the hall. The young thief didn’t let the silence reign for long. “Are you going to tell the king about her when he gets back?”

Warren shrugged. “I’m sort of hoping once he gets back and I haven’t left, she won’t have the guts to stick around herself.” Daniel frowned, brows low over his eyes at that.

“So what are you going to do in the meantime? She threatened you. Doesn’t that count for anything? Can you have her thrown in jail? Should you start having guards follow you around for protection?” Daniel skipped ahead a step and turned to walk backwards in front of Warren. “You can’t just let her get away with this! You’re a Prince! She should respect you.”

Warren raised a brow. “She should respect me because I’m a person. My position or wealth shouldn’t even figure into it.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m not going to worry about her. I don’t know what she’s going to throw at me so it’s difficult to prepare for it. Hopefully she’s not stupid enough to attack me directly, and anything she engineers to embarrass me or throw mud on my reputation can be dealt with.”

Frowning, Daniel turned to walk shoulder to shoulder with Warren again. “All the same, I feel like we should be careful.”

Warren smiles. “I will be.”

He was careful, as much as he could be. And Daniel was suspicious of everyone and everything. The boy told Caleb and Tessa about the confrontation over dinner that night and the three of them worked out who the woman is. Duchess Abigail Thrush. The name means absolutely nothing to Warren. As far as he’s concerned, the woman doesn’t even deserve the consideration of having her name remembered.

Caleb doesn’t like the situation. Possibly even more so than Daniel. But he can’t provide a solution. He believes the royal guard would listen to Warren if he were to order her thrown in a cell until the kings return. Warren apparently has that much power at least. But he’s already nodding in agreement as Warren predicts how much she’ll wail and cite false accusation.

It’s not a particularly manageable situation no matter how they look at it. Warren just assures them he will be careful, and they resolve to put the problem to King Aaron on his return.

A week passed. Then most of another. King Aaron was to return in the next two days. Warren was ready to forget the Duchess’ threats. Even Daniel was beginning to believe the threats had been simply that. Until Warren’s instincts for danger began to scream.

He had been doing his morning walk like always, with Daniel chatting away beside him. When something began to feel wrong, Warren aimed for the better traveled corridors. “Daniel.” The boy caught the tension in his tone and went dead silent. “Run ahead. Find Caleb for me.”

Daniel gave Warren a panicked look. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine Daniel. Just run ahead.”

The young man nodded and lurched into a jog. Warren kept up his slow, but steady, limping down the corridor, hoping his gut feeling was wrong. He inhaled sharply when Daniel rounded a corner and made a startled yelp. The boy came scrambling back around the corner, eyes wild with fear and running from two men pursuing him. Warren put on what speed he could, intent on getting to Daniel first and covering the boy’s retreat.

Daniel looked past Warren, and his falter warned Warren of the incoming peril before he was hit. Something blunt cracked into the back of his skull. Hard enough he staggered forward and crashed to his hands and knees.

“Warren!”

He dragged his gaze up, gritting his teeth at the sight of a man holding Daniel about his waist and with a hand over the boy’s face. Daniel made muffled screams as he kicked and thrashed. Warren attempted to shove to his feet to help. Harsh hands closed around his shoulders to push him down and grasped his wrists to pull them behind him. He grunted as the position put strain on his leg.

Twisting, he managed to make eye contact with the men restraining Daniel and roared. “Let him go!”

The man behind him laughed at him.

“The boy has nothing to do with this so let him go!”

“So he can run off and get help for you? I don’t think so.” Warren struggled, throwing everything he could into getting loose. The men behind him cursed and leaned their weight into him, soon demanding help when Warren roared in rage at the top of his lungs. “Get the gag in his mouth! Shut him up!”

When the third came to help control him, Daniel wiggled and slipped from his captor’s grasp, bolting down the hall and away. Warren let out a breath of relief when the fourth attacker decided to let him go rather than give chase. Warren caught the reluctant look on the man’s face and speculated that Daniel hadn’t had to fight too hard to get free. They soon had Warren gagged, bound, and blindfolded between the four of them. Warren struggled out of general principle as he was lifted between the four men and hauled out of the corridor.

He tried to keep track of where they were going. They didn’t take him far. Just out of the immediate area and someplace someone was less likely to walk in on them. Warren had to wonder how far they would go. A beating? A kidnapping? They wouldn’t really attempt to kill him, would they?

They tossed him to the floor and he grunted as he hit. He pulled his good knee under him, trying to get up to fight again. One of them put a hand to the back of his neck, shoving him down and grinding his cheek into the floor. He winced, straining to lift himself as well as the hand holding him when hands on his hips stopped him dead.

His trousers were jerked down his thighs. Cold fear shivered across his skin as a hot flush prickled across his neck and over his scalp. He dropped to one hip to kick. His hands wrenched and twisted behind his back in a frantic effort to free them from the leather thong wrapped around them. Hands held him down as they hissed venom at him and someone was ordered to go first.

Rough fingers manhandled and spread him. And when a blunt head pressed in against his arse he screamed. Someone’s hand clapped across his face, covering his mouth and nose tightly. He strained and wiggled, then spasmed and panicked.

The hand was slapped away from his face before he passed out, letting him gasp in a huge breath. Through the sound of his own ragged panting he could hear the reprimand.

“Don’t kill him. She only wants him damaged and even that’s more than I’m comfortable with.”

“Don’t be such a wilting posy.”

The ringing in his ears slowly faded. Though the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and animal grunts wasn’t a much better sound. Warren dragged in air, panting as he gathered up the energy to struggle again.

“Damn he’s tight. Maybe the king wasn’t using him after all.”

There was laughter from in front of him. “It has been a month. Perhaps he tightened back up. Or maybe the king has been able to stomach the sight of him for the feel of his mouth.” A finger caressed the side of his face damaged by burn scars, deceptively gentle. The pad of a thumb slipped over his lips and he clenched his teeth around the gag.

“Well you can give it a shot, but I’m going to stick to the end with no teeth.”

The man inside him finished with a groan. The feel of him sliding out provided a sense of hopeful relief. When the next slid in, Warren felt himself crack. He was frozen with dread. He was burning up again. Everything hurt. Someone leaned over him to hiss in his ear with hot, fetid breath.

“Her ladyship warned you. How do you think the king will look at you after she tells him she walked in to find you this way. Stuffed full and still begging for more. And even if you try to tell him who we are, we’ll all just say you came to us, asking for it. And we just felt such pity for your lonely desperation, we ignored all that ugly scarring just to make you happy. Put up with your pathetic, weak body to give you the ride you’ve always wanted.”

Warren felt his blood run cold at the last whispered threat.

“Although, if you do tell him, I might be tempted to track down your little friend and give him a ride as well.”

Warren snarled, wrenching and struggling. The sound of that voice lodged in his memory, and he vowed that if he ever got the chance, that man would feel the full weight of his wrath. Someone grabbed his hair and lifted, twisting his neck at a painful angle. The hand closing tight around his throat had him gasping in what air he could as breathing became harder. Something wet slapped against his face, leaving sticky smears behind. He closed his eyes tight behind the blindfold.

“I don’t know. He’s kinda pretty when he’s desperate.”

That was all the warning he got before a hand closed over his mouth and nose, cutting off his breath. He tugged and shook, trying to get away. His lungs heaved as his body trembled. The darkness was creeping in, threatening to take him away. His mind started going fuzzy. Would it be so bad to just drift away?

The hand came away from his face and he sucked in a breath. The darkness receded. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought the man thrusting against him had traded out again. The fingers gripping his hips were digging in harder. His legs trembled, no longer having the strength to keep him up. The man behind him just let him collapse, following him down. The pain intensified, which he hadn’t been sure was possible. Thrusting hips ground him into the floor while the heels of the man’s hands dug into his hips for support, putting stress on his pelvis.

He whimpered when the man suddenly withdrew, unsure of why. And then warm sticky splattered across his cheek and into his hair. A glob of spend slid over his nose and onto the floor. He shuddered as the fourth slid in for his turn. At least, he hoped it was the fourth, and therefore the last. Until the sound of voices talking about multiple rounds washed over him and he fractured.

His hands twisted in his bonds again, and he squirmed, summoning up whatever strength and energy he had left to get away.

The door slammed open and chaos erupted. He recognized Caleb yelling and he was suddenly released. He rolled onto one hip, raised a foot, and slammed it into the man who had just retreated from his body. The man exhaled a punched out groan, falling heavily backwards. The reaction was just satisfying enough Warren could almost forget his humiliation. He was dimly aware of Caleb ordering the men imprisoned and Duchess Thrush with them, but he couldn’t summon up much more focus than that. All he wanted to do was curl into a ball and disappear.

Warren jumped when he was touched, blindly panicking until he recognized Caleb talking to him. The medic crooned gently, gathering Warren up and pulling the blindfold off. Tugging the gag out. Someone was untying his wrists and he glanced back to find Daniel.

Caleb’s voice refocused him. “Can you walk?”

Warren whimpered, flinching as Caleb gently took his raw wrist and looked it over. As injuries went, his wrists and the hit to the back of the head was probably the worst of it. But then, Warren didn’t know if he had been torn open either. He just knew everything felt numb and dirty.

“Help me?”

Caleb nodded, doing his best to get Warren on his feet and his clothes mostly back in order. With Caleb on one side and Daniel on the other, they half carried him to the infirmary. Caleb sent Daniel outside the barrier of a privacy screen with a terse word and a sharp look. Warren wasn’t sure his modesty could be salvaged at this point but maybe it was habit. Caleb gingerly set a hand on Warren’s hip after getting him laid on a bed, arranged on his side. His voice was gentle, but no less firm.

“Can I look?”

Warren mutely nodded. Caleb attempted to stay gentle while still examining the damage quickly. He looked grim when he moved up to look at the bruises developing around Warren’s neck. His fingers were light as he prodded the back of Warren’s skull and attempted to look into his eyes. Warren couldn’t bear to make eye-contact. Caleb didn’t push. Warren dragged in a shuddering breath as the reality began to hit him, overwhelming until it was all he could do to rasp quietly.

“Please don’t tell him.”

Caleb froze. Absolute agony showed in his eyes. “Warren, I have to.” Warren’s eyes closed in defeat and Caleb pleaded, voice wavering. “I can’t ignore this Warren. This can’t just be brushed under the rug and forgotten. If you won’t, then I have to tell him.”

Warren slowly managed a nod. When he was fairly certain Caleb was done, he whispered. “Can I go wash?”

“Yeah Warren. Of course you can.”

Caleb took him straight to the baths, sending Daniel to retrieve a set of clothes. He gave Warren a questioning look when the soldier pulled away. “Do you need help?”

Warren shook his head, keeping his gaze away. “Just keep everyone away.” Caleb nodded, easily promising that. The physician settled down to sit on the bottom of the stairs, bodily blocking anyone from entering the baths. Warren limped to the back of the cavern, stripping off the soiled clothes and using up two different bottles before he realized he just wasn’t going to feel clean no matter how hard he scrubbed.

He sank down to sit on his heels, crouched beneath the cascade of water. His fingers slid through his hair and dug into his scalp. Tears welled and overflowed. He couldn’t breathe again. Slowly rocking back and forth, he broke. Caleb could probably hear his shattered sobs, but Warren couldn’t find it in him to care. The man had put him back together so many times before, it stood to reason he wouldn’t mind terribly to do it again.

His only fear was if this really would make the Duchess’ threat come true. Could King Aaron really stand keeping him on as a consort if he had been violated this way? Would King Aaron still want him around, once he had been told?

The bruises faded enough over the next couple days. The ones around his neck were barely noticeable and the back of his head really only hurt if he pressed on it. He had some minor abrasions to his hands and knees, across his hips and where his cheek had been pressed into the floor, but again they were barely noticeable. He refused to leave the consort quarters, and no one seemed in a mood to make him.

A flutter of activity and fast spreading rumors announced the kings return the next afternoon, and only then did Warren leave his rooms. Daniel hovered at his elbow, once again demonstrating his hypervigilance even if they both knew the Duchess was still locked away. Warren wasn’t going to chide him on it, however.

He settled down to sit on the stairs up into the castle, seeing no point in tiring himself out until the king’s arrival. He left the milling to the nobility and councilors, content to wait at the back. The sound of the people cheering reached them first. Then the clopping of horse hooves and stamp of marching feet. The standard bearers rode in the gates first and Warren got to his feet as the courtiers pressed forward to greet the king.

Warren had to smile at the sight of Ivy on her mare, head held high and looking at ease. He had expected nothing less of the young woman. King Aaron scanned the crowds eagerly as they rode in but didn’t manage to look long before his attentions were demanded. The king slid from his horse and moved around to help lift Ivy down. Warren started slipping through the crowds, drawing close just in time to catch the king’s words.

“Yes, yes, all of that will be attended to. It’s very good news. Where’s Warren?” His voice rose over the crowds, clear and excited. “Warren?”

Warren finished pushing through. King Aaron lit up, smile growing as he hurried forward and enveloped Warren in a warm embrace. One strong arm wrapped around Warren’s back while a hand slid over the nape of his neck. Swallowing, Warren wound his own arms around the king’s shoulders and held tight. It suddenly struck him just how long it had been since he’d been touched like this. King Aaron seemed to always be looking for an excuse to touch him. No one else bothered or was too scared to do so.

King Aaron must have caught his shuddering exhale of relief. “You alright?”

“I forgot how much you like to touch.”

“Sorry, should I-”

Warren tightened his grip when King Aaron started to pull away. “No.” King Aaron chuckled and held him closer.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah. I missed you too.” A thought occurred and Warren loosened his hold. King Aaron opened his mouth to speak but drew back in affront when Warren thumped the heel of his hand into the king’s shoulder. A little too hard to be simple comradery. “You! The next time you get it into your head to send me a scared boy please make it clear he is in no danger of execution or r-”

The word stuck in his craw. King Aaron’s brow furrowed. Warren cleared his throat and lowered his voice, knowing it would be better to keep talking in private but not sure he would be able to start again if he stopped now. “Daniel thought he was to be a bed slave.”

“Oh. Oh! No! I’m sorry. I wanted to explain everything in its entirety, but it seemed like I could never get the proper amount of privacy. I’m sorry about that.”

Warren nodded, softly smiling at the genuine distress over the miscommunication on King Aaron’s face. “I explained. He’s a good kid.”

King Aaron smiled. “I thought so.”

Ivy suddenly came weaseling in, reaching up to wrap Warren in a hug and kiss both his cheeks. “Look at you. On your feet and no crutch in sight. I’m so proud of you.”

Warren chuckled. “And you riding in like you own the place.”

Ivy grinned, sending a playfully imperious look over the castle. “I do own the place. Or will soon enough. After the ceremony, I’m entitled to a claim on this place.”

The mention of the ceremony reminded Warren and he struggled to hold his smile in place. “Right. Yes, that’s true. You will.”

Ever observant, Ivy sensed something was amiss and her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Warren swallowed when he noticed Ivy’s worry had drawn King Aaron’s attention too. He did his best to reassure them both. “Nothing. I’m fine. We just… We should talk. Soon.”

They both nodded. And then their allowed moment was over as the courtiers started pressing again. Warren, Daniel, and Ivy all made their way back to the consort quarters. With Warren’s endorsement, Daniel opened up to Ivy quickly and the two of them were soon chattering away. Warren had to smile when the term ‘thick as thieves’ came to mind, amused at just how much truth there was to that statement.

All mirth fled when the door opened. Tessa brought in a cart laden with dinner. King Aaron and Caleb followed her in. Caleb and Tessa looked grim. King Aaron just looked curious with a hint of unease. Warren swallowed thickly, managing a nod of thanks to Caleb. He knew the physician would step in if Warren couldn’t get through it, but he appreciated the chance to break this news himself.

They all settled around the table, passing food and plates, serving each other as equals. Somehow, Warren’s plate was filled, though he had no memory of taking anything for himself. A warm hand covering his made him startle and brought attention to his hands trembling. King Aaron and Ivy had begun to look concerned. Caleb, Tessa and Daniel were silent as the grave.

“Warren?” King Aaron’s gentle tone drew his gaze up from their hands, meeting the warm brown gaze that had never once held judgement for him. He could only pray to all the gods that would still hold true after he got through this.

“There’s been a- I’ve been- Something happened.” Warren looked down into his plate, unable to keep holding the king’s gaze. “Right after you left, Duchess Thrush told me I should leave. I ignored her. But then a couple weeks ago, she threatened me. Told me if I didn’t leave you to someone more your equal, that I would regret it. That she would make sure you never wanted me again.”

“That’s not-”

King Aaron cut off when a pained look went across Warren’s face. Warren turned his hand beneath King Aaron’s, flipping it palm up so he could grasp the king’s wrist like a lifeline. His voice scraped from his throat, raw and fragile.

“I told her it wouldn’t happen. I insulted her and disregarded her threats. I decided whatever she could possibly throw at me, I could handle it. But she- She-” His throat closed up. His plate swam in front of him, going blurry as tears fell. He sensed the entire table shift, wanting to help but unsure how. King Aaron returned his grip. On his other side, Daniel set a hand on his shoulder. Warren opened his mouth, trying to finish. To get it out.

His shoulders hunched and he leaned into his elbows on the table. His free hand covered his face as he shivered.

“Warren?” Caleb asked. “Should I finish?”

Warren wanted to spit it out himself. He wanted to scrape together whatever remained of his pride and dignity and finish what he had started. But he couldn’t get his throat to cooperate. His tongue wouldn’t form words. Something was lodged in his lungs and he didn’t think it would ever move. He numbly nodded.

Caleb sounded rough, but he could get the words out at least. “Duchess Thrush arranged for four men to rape Warren.” Warren flinched at the sounds coming from around the table. Even Tessa and Daniel, who had already known, couldn’t help but make soft choked off noises. Caleb cleared his throat and forged on. “They bound and gagged him, took him to a seldom used room, and used him. Daniel had been with him, and from what I understand they would have done the same to him if Warren hadn’t put up as much of a fight as he did and given him a chance to escape. Daniel came to get me, and I brought in the guards. All four men, and the Duchess, are imprisoned in the dungeon awaiting your judgement.”

Warren struggled to take in deep breaths. Morbid curiosity had him slowly glancing up and around, looking for how the only people that mattered to him had taken the news. Tessa wiped away tears. Ivy let her own flow freely, face twisted in rage. Caleb struggled to remain stoic, but Warren already knew the physician had been consumed with guilt. Daniel looked quietly understanding, and Warren feared the boy knew this pain better than he should.

When he finally turned his gaze to his king, Warren swallowed. King Aaron was vibrating. His eyes shifted through guilt, grief, anger, pain. The hand wrapped around Warren’s wrist was firm and steady, but his other clenched and unfurled as his chest heaved. When he moved, Warren’s breath hitched. King Aaron slid to the floor, on his knees at Warren’s feet.

“Warren. She was wrong. Do you understand me? She couldn’t have been more wrong. You’ve done nothing wrong and I could never abandon you for what she did to you. I could never think any less than the absolute best of you. I will never stop wanting you.”

The fresh flood of tears seemed to trigger King Aaron’s own grief and he leaned in. There was the slightest hesitation, making sure Warren wanted it, and when Warren leaned in to meet him, King Aaron wrapped him up tight like he intended to never let go. “Trust me, Warren. The day you lose me is the day you decide you don’t want me anymore.”

Warren was certain that day would never come.

The rest of the night went by in a fog. He was fairly certain they made him eat something, and King Aaron had taken to hovering, but neither fact bothered him. He fell into an exhausted sleep at some point. When he woke up he found he had been moved to his own bed and he had Ivy and Daniel curled up on either side of him. Again, neither fact bothered him.

He rolled over and fell back asleep, refusing to move until Ivy pulled them both up, sending Daniel to get ready for the day and ordering Warren to do the same. Then all three trooped down to the king’s quarters to take breakfast with him. King Aaron chuckled as they all came in, commenting that it might be more effective for him to start joining them in the mornings as he found another chair.

King Aaron gave Warren a warm smile as he pulled out a chair for the soldier and kissed Ivy’s cheek. A soft squeeze to Daniel’s shoulder completed the morning greetings and they all tucked in. Once they had taken in a few bites, King Aaron took the hint from Ivy’s excited wiggling and pulled out a letter.

“Good news, in several areas. First, Ivy’s contributions have shown great potential. Even more than we were first expecting. I think her methods will catch on quickly and we will be able to adequately feed our entire country with plenty of surplus for storing for the winter and trade and anything else we can think to do with it. So, thank you Ivy. Keep up the good work.”

Warren smiled at Ivy’s pleased look.

“Secondly. The war is ending.” Warren looked up in surprise and took the letter when it was handed to him. King Aaron summarized aloud as Warren read it. “After several crushing defeats on the battlefield and the apparent ability to predict their every move, the Tyrant has surrendered. His troops have laid down arms and three companies are moving in to take King Kairo’s castle and the capital city of Riverhead. We’ll be riding out to work out the conditions of surrender as soon as possible.”

“I’m coming.”

King Aaron nodded, sobering a little at Warren’s tone. “I wouldn’t have tried to make you stay back from this one. Not even before I knew about…” He trailed off when Warren averted his gaze. “I want you there. All three of you. But first, I would like to have the official ceremony that will make the three of you my consorts. If the three of you still wish to marry me, that is.”

Ivy shrugged. “You’re not so bad. I’ll marry you.”

Daniel shifted in his seat, fiddling with the silverware Warren had been insisting he begin using. “I don’t mind.”

King Aaron smiled, then turned a hopeful look towards Warren. “If you haven’t reconsidered, I’d be honored if you would marry me.”

Warren swallowed, having trouble maintaining the king’s steady gaze. “I haven’t reconsidered. I’ll marry you.”

“Wonderful. We’ll make those arrangements as quickly as possible, take care of our treason problem, and then plan our trip out to the Tyrants lands.”

Warren cocked his head. “Treason problem?”

King Aaron nodded, eyes dark and mouth tight. “Treason problem.”

The ceremony took place three days later. Warren thought he was caught in a whirlwind with how busy everyone seemed to be. A hundred different things were all happening simultaneously, but the castle staff worked in perfect concert and Warren was assured all he had to do was follow directions and smile.

Soldiers were good at following directions, so he figured he could handle that. The day of the ceremony, the consort quarters were invaded early in the morning. Tessa helped Ivy get dressed while a couple manservants took care of Daniel and Warren. Warren growled a little as he was dressed in his new clothes. Getting into them was a hassle, but they were well made and comfortable all things considered. He refused the mirror, deciding he could imagine what he looked like well enough.

His suit was reminiscent of what he might have worn in a military parade. If he were a general of noble birth. 

The black leggings and polished boots wouldn’t hamper his attempts at walking. The sword belted at his waist was functional, rather than something for show, and Warren wondered if that was a suggestion from the king. The loose white shirt and sleeveless black doublet assured he wouldn’t overheat, while the black leather bracers and pauldrons were, again, functional. Gold piping decorated the doublet and a purple sash crossed his chest.

He didn’t feel as awkward as he had feared he would, but he assumed that was partly due to the strong similarities to familiar clothes.

He stepped out of his room and found Daniel already waiting. The young man grinned, obviously pleased with the way he looked. Daniel did a spin to show off for Warren. “What do you think?”

“It suits you.”

It really did. Black leggings and light-weight boots kept him free to move. A fitted doublet in a dark blue brought out his eyes and complemented his red hair. A black velvet half capelet with a hood, lined in purple and trimmed in gold, gave him a dashing look without calling the attention of everyone in the room. A long knife had been belted to his thigh and Warren’s trained eye spotted the smaller knife in the side of the boy’s boot. He was willing to bet both blades were sharp.

Daniel grinned as he gave Warren an appraising look. “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself.”

Ivy’s door opened and the boys turned to look. Warren blinked as she came floating down the hall. “Beautiful.”

She smiled shyly and dark hands nervously smoothed her skirts. “You think so?” Warren nodded. Daniel chimed in behind him.

“I like boys and even I know you’re gorgeous.”

Ivy laughed, the confident woman that Warren was used to back already. The ivory dress hugged her curves. The purple roses nestled in green ivy stitched into the hem of the dress echoed the hint of purple that had been worked into all their outfits. Her raven ringlets had been left mostly loose, with just a few strands pulled away from her face and caught behind her head with an ornate carved wood pin and a sprig of ivy. A spiderweb of delicate diamonds, emeralds, and amethysts had been draped around her throat and chest, sparkling in the light.

Warren looked her up and down, cocking his head. “Where are your weapons?”

Ivy grinned. She reached up to touch the pin in her hair, then hitched up her skirts to show off the knife strapped to her calf. Tessa slid around Ivy, slapping her skirts back down and handing over a bouquet of white lilies and trailing ivy.

“You all look lovely. Now let’s go before we’re late.”

A carriage took Warren, Ivy, and Daniel to the chapel. They were escorted in and hurried to a separate room to be given instructions on how the ceremony was supposed to go. Warren thought it was all straightforward enough. Walk down the aisle, vow everlasting love and loyalty and so on, King Aaron would be the one to crown them and then that would be that.

The clergywoman glared at him for the bland summary. Daniel just shot him a grateful look and slowly stopped panicking. Ivy leaned over to the boy and whispered once the woman had turned away for a moment, assuring him it was the party afterwards that was going to be the fun part.

“Alright, looks like everyone is seated. Come take your place with the ones to give you away.”

Warren’s eyes narrowed. Who exactly was going to walk him down the aisle? A glance at Ivy and Daniel gave the impression they were just as baffled. The clergywoman was no longer in the mood to answer questions however and hustled them out of the room. Trailing along behind the two younger and lighter of foot, Warren had to smile when they arrived at the foot of the aisle.

Daniel gasped in delight and ran forward, embracing a thin woman with the same red hair and blue eyes. Daniel’s teary calls for his mother and her answering croons to her son didn’t leave much doubt as to who she was. Ivy squealed an excited ‘Papa!’ and almost bowled over a careworn gentleman. Both parents assured their children they looked wonderful and how proud they were and tried not to cry.

A hand closed over his shoulder, drawing Warren’s attention. Caleb smiled at him. “You can walk yourself down the aisle if you like, but I’d be honored if you would allow me to give you away.” Warren laughed.

“The honor’s all mine.”

And then the clergywoman started demanding attention and readiness and pushing everyone into position. Caleb frowned at her, ignoring her fussing to switch to Warren’s weaker side and offering his arm. Warren took it and whispered, trying not to set the poor woman into a tizzy.

“Thank you.”

Caleb smiled, nodded, then put them into motion down the aisle. Warren swallowed when everyone stood and bowed. But the sight of King Aaron in all his majestic splendor soon took up all his attention. His usual gold band across his brow had been switched out for an impressive jewel encrusted towering thing. It probably weighed a ton. Only a little heavier than the flowing mantle that draped over his shoulders and trailed across the floor. His white and gold brocaded doublet had been crossed with sashes in black, green, and blue.

But more than the rich clothes, it was the warm smile and eyes shining with joy that captured his attention. It struck him, as they reached the head of the aisle, that King Aaron had never looked anything less than utterly pleased to be marrying his chosen consorts.

Then Caleb stopped, refocusing him on the here and now. Caleb turned to draw Warren into a tight hug, whispering a wish for luck in his ear before turning loose and guiding him towards King Aaron. Warren took the king’s offered hand, letting him help get up the stairs without his weak leg folding under him. He made sure Warren was steady and settled before he gave him a shining smile and let go. The light caught his eyes for a moment, turning them amber. Then he was turning away to receive Ivy.

Ivy’s father kissed both her cheeks before delivering her hand into the king’s, and she was brought up and positioned a step below and behind Warren. Daniel’s mother wiped her tears away and hugged the life out of Daniel, scattering kisses across his face before finally letting King Aaron take him. Daniel looked a little misty himself as King Aaron escorted him up to position him a step below and behind Ivy.

Warren caught King Aaron’s eye for a moment, glancing toward the joyfully tearful mother and raising a brow at the king. King Aaron gave him a sly smile and a wink in return.

The priest said a few words Warren wasn’t really listening to. He was quite certain he wouldn’t remember them for long even if he did pay attention. What he would remember was the vow he spoke right here and now. So much had been taken from him already, but this vow was his. No matter the reasons they were joining here today, these words would be his own.

When the priest led into the speaking of the oaths, Warren broke in before the man could start reciting and expecting a repetition. “My King, I make you this vow.” He spoke clearly and projected so his voice would carry to the very furthest corner of the cathedral.

The priest opened his mouth, looking annoyed and ready to stop Warren. King Aaron made a subtle gesture, stilling the clergyman’s protests. Warren gave King Aaron a grateful look and continued.

“You cannot possess me, just as I cannot possess you, but for as long as we both wish, I will give you all I have to give. You cannot command me, just as I cannot command you, but I shall serve you in what ways you require, and my loyalty will be all the sweeter for it. My triumphs are my own, but I will share them with you. Your trials are your own, but I will help you bear the burden. And I swear, til death or choice parts us, I vow to show you the same love, honor, and trust you show me.”

King Aaron couldn’t possibly look more pleased. Warren swears he can see a hint of moisture in King Aaron’s eyes, and he bites his lip to keep from grinning like a loon when the king echoes his words back to him perfectly.

Ivy makes her own vows on the spot, a little shorter than Warren’s but with the same essence. King Aaron easily repeats them back to her. Daniel’s vow is even simpler.

“Don’t walk ahead of me, I might not follow. Don’t walk behind me, I might not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

When the vows are said and done, the priest, looking rather annoyed at being upstaged, invites King Aaron to crown his consorts. Three small children step forward, holding pillows with crowns perched on top. King Aaron picks up the first. It’s gold like his own, and simply decorated with rubies and black diamonds.

“Kneel Warren.”

Warren goes to one knee, bowing his head and letting King Aaron place the gold band across his brow.

“Rise, Prince Consort Warren.”

A hand reaches down to steady him as he lifts back to his feet. He raises his head and his eyes widen at how close King Aaron is. The king puts his fingers beneath Warren’s chin, lifting him a fraction more and tilting his own head in silent question. Warren swallows and closes the distance between them, eyes sliding closed as he presses his lips to the kings. He’s warm, and his beard tickles against Warren’s chin.

Then King Aaron is pulling away with a smile. The king turns to retrieve the next crown for Ivy. Hers is silver, covered in emeralds and amethysts. She kneels Ivy and rises Princess Consort. She is also given the option of a kiss and grins as she rises onto her toes to peck King Aaron on his nose. He chuckles and finally moves to Daniel.

Daniel rises Prince Consort, a silver band with sapphires and opals upon his brow. King Aaron lifts the boys chin and presses a kiss between his brows.

King Aaron strides to the center stage, sweeping an arm out towards his consorts and booming through the chapel. “I present to you good people, my Consorts. Prince Warren. Princess Ivy. And Prince Daniel. Kneel and pay homage to their Royal Highness’.”

The people kneel, bowing their heads. King Aaron glances back to beckon the three of them on, then leads the way back down the aisle. All four of them climb into a carriage for a parade through the city and then back to the castle for a wedding feast. Warren still feels the need to fade into the king’s shadow, but Ivy and Daniel happily wave to the citizens.

Back at the castle, King Aaron takes a moment to discard the heavy mantle and trades out the enormous crown for a slightly more manageable one. Still flashier than his everyday crown, but less likely to make him topple over or put a crick in his neck. The feast is a loud affair, even before people get deep into their cups. A table has been set up for the king and his consorts, but Ivy and Daniel are more often roaming the hall, tracking down family members that have been invited for the occasion and catching up with them. Warren spots another little redhead running by with Daniel hot on her heels and grins.

“It was nice of you, to find their families for the wedding.”

King Aaron smiles, reaching over to fill Warren’s wineglass again. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t find anyone for you.”

Warren just shrugs, unconcerned. “My company was the closest thing to family I had. And it was nice of Caleb to stand in for me. Now I’ve got you, and Ivy and Daniel. Caleb and Tessa. You’re a better family than I could have hoped for.”

King Aaron reaches out to lay a hand over Warren’s, stroking his thumb back and forth. He leaves his hand there as they talk, catching up on events from the past month that they just didn’t have time for in the three days they were putting together a ceremony. For once, they don’t get interrupted.

Evidently, the wedding table is sacred.

Warren can’t help but ask once they’re all caught up. “How did you manage to get all this prepared in three days?” He pats his clothes and reaches up to brush at the crown on his head. “Everything was very much to our personal tastes. But I can’t imagine you actually found enough artisans who could make all this on such short notice. You’ve been preparing this behind our backs for some time now, haven’t you.”

King Aaron grinned, barely holding back a laugh. “You’ve caught me. I started preparing for you and Ivy before we left on our trip. I’ll admit, I took more chances with Daniel than I might have preferred, but he seems to like everything just fine. Which reminds me. I promised you a better gift than a rescued urchin with sticky fingers.”

Warren chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t have to.”

“I already did. You’ll find it in your room when you retire. If you don’t like it then I’ll find you something else.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Warren glances out into the hall. Most people have finished eating and dancing has begun. King Aaron upturns his palm.

“Dance with me?”

Warren blinks in surprise. “I- I don’t know that I can manage for long. I certainly can’t go fast. You really want a dance partner that could fall to the floor and take you with him?”

King Aaron’s wolfish grin doesn’t allow for a hint of concern. “Oh, I already know I’m strong enough to catch you. And I’ll take any opportunity to sweep you off your feet.”

The flirtatious teasing brings a blush to Warren’s face. He grasps at one last straw, but he already knows he’s lost. “You don’t want to dance with Ivy? Seems like your first dance as a married man should be with a pretty girl.”

“I like handsome men just as well.”

Warren opens his mouth, but he can’t come up with anything to say to that. He finally agrees, like he knew he would, pushing to his feet and letting the king lead him out onto the dance floor. The musicians begin a waltz, and the floor clears to allow the king his first wedded dance. King Aaron wraps one arm around Warren’s waist to pull them chest to chest, while his other hand clasps Warren’s. The king leads, and Warren can’t help but think he would follow this man anywhere with confidence like this.

They move together easily, the king a natural leader and Warren a quick study. Warren notices others joining after a few moments of allowing them to lead the dancing. Ivy with her father. Daniel with his mother. Caleb with Tessa. Others slowly join in as well. Warren refocuses on the king and realizes they’ve drifted even closer in his distraction, almost cheek to cheek. King Aaron whispers in his ear, making him shiver.

“I liked your little improvisation. With your vows? I think it was perfect.”

Warren smiles, murmuring back. “It just felt better. Our arrangement isn’t an average marriage, so it seemed silly to use the average vows.” He hesitated, then admits, “really it was just a way to make it mine. It feels like so much has been taken from me the past few months. I thought, at the very least, I could say the words I wanted at my own damn wedding.”

King Aaron holds him a little tighter at that. They whirl around the floor again, but that isn’t why Warren is dizzy when the king whispers to him again. “Spend tonight in my quarters with me.” Warren stumbles. King Aaron just holds him close and bears his weight until he can get his feet under him again. “You don’t have to. And we won’t do anything you don’t want to. I just want you there.”

Swallowing, Warren knows why all the reassurances are being offered. But there’s no safer place he can think of. “Okay.”

The shaky exhale suggests King Aaron was nervous. Fearful of rejection. But now his low murmur is relieved. “Thank you.” They dance until Warren begins to feel the struggle of moving naturally. “Tired?” the king asks.

Warren nods. King Aaron squeezes him one last time before turning to guide him back towards the table. He’s seated and the king presses a kiss to his temple. “Need anything?” Warren shakes his head. “Alright. I should probably go demand a dance from my lovely wife and young husband, but I’ll be back to you presently.”

Chuckling, Warren waves him off and settles himself to watch. King Aaron taps the shoulder of Ivy’s father to cut in and bows to them both. Ivy curtsies low and her father bows in return. Then King Aaron is whirling Ivy about the dance floor. Warren can see them whispering to each other and laughing. Someone slides in next to him, reaching across him to grasp an apple.

“So, if we’re both married to the king, does that make us married too?”

Warren glances at Daniel as the young man perches on the arm of Ivy’s chair and crunches into his apple. “I have no idea. I don’t believe so. But as far as I’m concerned, we’re family, no matter how everyone else looks at us.”

Daniel grins at that.

“Having fun?”

Nodding, Daniel scans the room. “I never thought I’d ever see anythin’ like this. I sure never imagined any of it would be for me. And! His Majesty offered Ma a job in the castle! She’s gonna help out in the kitchens and a couple of my sisters are gonna look for work in the city. They’re gonna find a nice house and be near enough to visit and Ma thinks everythin’ will be so much better.”

“So the political marriage is worth it then?”

Laughing, Daniel nods. They watch the dancing for a moment before Daniel speaks again, through a mouthful of apple. “He’s handsome. And so kind. I think, if I were a little older, I might have tried really hard to make him fall in love with me. It would of been a fairytale. But he says I should just be me for a while. Find who I really want to be with.”

Warren nods. “You’ve got your whole life to live. It’s okay if you fall in love with a king, but you should have adventures too.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Warren looks up into the blue eyes staring back at him, earnestly awaiting an answer. “Yes.”

“What did it feel like?”

“It was the happiest time of my life. I couldn’t imagine life without her.”

Daniel had gone still, half eaten apple forgotten in a slack grip. He opened his mouth, then closed it quickly and withdrew, turning his gaze out to the dancers. Warren had the feeling he knew the indecision swirling in the boy’s head.

“I’ll tell you about her someday. Not today,” he said as he reached for his wine. Daniel nodded, soft smile on his face. Then he was hopping to his feet and setting aside his apple as King Aaron escorted Ivy back to the table and offered Daniel the next dance. Ivy plopped into her seat and reached for her wineglass, drinking a long draught. “Go easy,” Warren cautioned, setting his empty glass on the table.

“He says as he gulps his own glass.” She cocked her head at him, dark eyes considering. “You alright?”

Warren takes in a deep breath, smiling as he turns to meet her gaze. “Been a long day.”

“Good though, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Really good.”

He doesn’t mean to be, but Warren is well and truly drunk by the time the party is coming to an end. He feels light and heavy and nervous and calm and ever so warm. King Aaron escorts all three to the consort quarters and gives Warren one last opportunity to take his leave. Warren just takes the king’s arm and makes for King Aaron’s quarters.

He heads for a couch in the main room while King Aaron opens the balcony doors to let in the cool night air. King Aaron leaves him there for a moment. Realizing sitting with the blade will be impossible, Warren fumbles until he can release himself from the sword belt. And that freedom prompts him into removing his leather armor and doublet. King Aaron comes back with a glass of water in his hand and freezes, watching carefully. Warren just grins, carefully setting the wedding attire aside. He sits down to tug off his boots and places them out of the way nearby. Finally comfortable, he lounges back with a sigh.

King Aaron chuckles and resumes his advance, sitting next to Warren and offering up the glass. Warren quietly thanks him, taking long swallows. His crown slides when he tips his head back too far and he hurries to catch it. Once under his fingers, curiosity gets the better of him. He pulls it off, setting the glass aside to turn the gold band in his hands and watch the gemstones sparkle.

“It’s beautiful.” King Aaron hums in agreement. “I don’t deserve it.” A dissatisfied grunt draws his attention to the king. The crown is gently pulled from his hands and firmly placed back atop his head.

“You’re beautiful. And you do deserve it.” The backs of his fingers trail lightly down Warren’s face, skimming over the burn scars.

Warren inhales sharply, flinching away from violating memories of falsely comforting fingers and venomous whispers. King Aaron retreats immediately, apologies falling from his lips. Warren quickly shook his head, catching King Aaron’s hand and pressing it back to his face.

“Please.” His tortured whisper makes the king freeze, tension in his every line. “Please don’t pull away. Don’t blame yourself for this, because I can’t convince you it’s not your fault if I can’t even convince myself of the same. I know neither of us are to blame but I still feel like… I still feel so guilty. So just…touch me like you used to. Act like nothing happened for me. Pretend it never happened. And don’t pull away when I forget to do the same.”

King Aaron lets out a shuddering breath. Tears are threatening to escape. But he gently tugs Warren in, holding him as close as he can seated next to each other and easily promising. “I can do that.”

They talk quietly about nothing in particular, pressed together shoulder to shoulder and comfortable in each other’s company. The lulls of peaceful silence grow longer and more frequent until Warren wakes up to find he had dozed off on King Aaron’s shoulder. He twists a bit, looking up and smiling. King Aaron had fallen asleep as well, head at an odd angle. Warren pulls himself to his feet. The motion wakes the king and he mumbles a sleepy question.

“Come on. To bed.” He offered a hand, gently coaxing as King Aaron scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked wearily.

King Aaron sighs deeply but slips his hand into Warren’s and gets to his feet. He lets Warren guide him to the bedroom. Warren smiles when the king sits heavily on the edge of the bed, takes a moment to consider, then flops sideways onto his pillows. Warren works the king’s boots off and lifts his legs into the bed. He pulls a blanket up and over King Aaron, gently removing the gold crown from his head last and setting it aside. King Aaron mutters something in his sleep.

Warren quietly regards his king. His husband. Already deep into an exhausted slumber and relaxed. Even in sleep, his grip remains loose about Warren’s wrist, holding him close. Warren smiled, gently untangling himself from the king’s grasp and leaning over him to kiss his temple. Whisper softly above his ear. “Goodnight, my king.”

King Aaron smiles in his sleep. Warren hobbles back out to the couch, taking a moment to close the balcony doors and bank the fire. Setting his own crown aside last, he’s soon stretching out and quickly drifting off himself. Sleeping deeply without dreams.


	4. Envy and Kindness

Warm fingers through his hair wake him in the morning. He blinks groggily up at King Aaron. “Morning.”

“The bed was big enough for us both.”

Warren shrugs, pushing himself upright and standing to stretch. “Didn’t want to assume.”

“Of course. Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

King Aaron picks up Warren’s crown and lifts it to place it on Warren’s brow. King Aaron has redressed in his more typical clothes, but his crown is still the flashier one from the wedding reception. “We’ll get some breakfast then. You can get a fresh set of clothes. But I’d like it if you would continue to wear this while we handle this morning’s business.”

“Business?”

“Duchess Thrush and your abusers.”

Warren swallows. He numbly nods, suddenly less sure of his ability to eat. King Aaron grasps his shoulders, a firm reminder of where he is and who he’s with. A grounding presence.

“If I could spare you from ever seeing them again I would, but I need to make a statement here. I’m going to be asking you for your opinion on how they should be punished as well. Do you think you can handle that?” Warren takes a moment to consider, then nods. King Aaron squeezes his shoulders again, then withdraws to offer an arm. “Good. Let’s go join Ivy and Daniel for breakfast then.”

Warren can’t stomach much more than some tea and toast. The morning banter between Ivy and Daniel helps to distract him and their insistence at being present through the proceedings that morning to support Warren help him calm. The nerves have mostly faded to be replaced by conviction, if not confidence, by the time breakfast is through.

He gathers up the doublet, leather armor and sword belt from the wedding as he heads for his room to get dressed, intending to put them away. He stops when he notices the changes that have been made in his room since he was last in here.

A rack has been mounted to the wall. A place to hold the sword in his hand and already hung with a war bow and quiver with twenty arrows. He sets aside the things in his hands to lift the bow free, testing its heft and length. Both are perfectly suited to him. He tests the strength of the draw and finds he’s going to have to rebuild some upper body strength.

“You like it?”

Warren grins at the king hovering in his doorway. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

“Good. I would suggest bringing that and the sword along when we venture south to deal with the Tyrant.” Warren nods. King Aaron tilts his head towards the wardrobe next. “You should have had some new clothes delivered too.”

Nodding, Warren reverently hangs up the bow again and goes to look. There’s certainly an array, everything from travel clothes to formal things. He brushes through it, noting the careful attention to his preferences. “How nice should I look for this trial?”

“Distinguished, but comfortable.” Warren shoots a smile over his shoulder and gets a grin back. “I’ll leave you to it. Join us when you’re ready.”

Warren flicks through the clothes and ultimately decides on something slightly less grand than the rest of the nobility usually wears. The crown will be enough of a statement on its own, and he doesn’t want to let anyone forget he was not royal originally. Least of all himself. He doesn’t need to flaunt his new position to get his point across. After a moment’s consideration, he belts the sword back around his waist. King Aaron wears his daily, so it won’t look out of place, and he feels more comfortable armed.

When he steps out of his room he finds Ivy and Daniel have dressed similarly, simply but no less grand for it. Daniel is wearing his long knife openly. Warren assumes Ivy is subtly armed as well. The four of them troop into the throne room. King Aaron moves up to the dais and seats himself in his throne. Warren boldly strides up behind him and takes a stand at the king’s elbow. He stands tall, with chin up and hands loosely behind his back.

King Aaron casts a look back at him, silent question to ask if Warren is ready in his eyes. At Warren’s terse nod, King Aaron calls the trial commenced and asks the accused to be brought in. Duchess Thrush has not fared well in the dungeons. She looks tired and dirty and spitting mad, with her men only a little better. Her anger only flares when she lays eyes on Warren.

“Your Majesty. Thank the gods you’re back. I must tell you-”

King Aaron breaks in. “You’ll tell me about your decision to commit treason and nothing else.”

“Treason?!” Her voice goes a little shrill and the men behind her pale. “Your Majesty, there was no treason. This is all a misunderstanding! The little broken soldier is a liar and a cheat! He wants to-”

“Duchess Thrush. Please address Prince Consort Warren with his deserved title. You’re in enough trouble without blatant disrespect.”

She ground her teeth, but slowly tipped her head just enough to possibly be considered a bow. The Duchess spun quite the story. She fancied herself the savior of the king’s married life and protector of his heart, guarding him against greedy, duplicitous common born that would deceive and steal and ultimately break the king’s heart with infidelity and disloyalty.

Warren watched King Aaron’s fingers clench around the armrests of his throne until they had gone bloodlessly white. His shoulders and neck tightened with tension. And when he started to tremble, Warren shifted his weight just enough he could drop his arms to his sides and lay a hand to the back of the king’s elbow.

The tension drained and King Aaron took in the first easy breath in a while.

Daniel was called to relate his contributions to the story, and he managed to give a mostly unbiased accounting of the threatening conversation he had witnessed and the first stage of the attack. Caleb was called next. The physician gave Warren an apologetic look before detailing what he had walked into and recounted the occasions Warren had come to talk with him about Duchess Thrush.

Warren was asked to speak his side last. He managed to get through the conversations, admitting his own actions just as easily as he did the Duchess’. He faltered in his story about the time Daniel had escaped, and the rest was bare bones in short statements because that was all he could get out.

The Duchess was seething when he was done. King Aaron got to his feet, dragging her glare from Warren. His voice boomed across the throne room, laced with anger. “Duchess Thrush. You are accused of treason for the attack on His Highness Warren. Your concerns were not valid, and even if they had been, you should have brought this matter to me directly to discuss it. By taking things into your own hands and handling your own envy in such a vile manner, you have only doomed yourself. I sentence you to death, to be carried out tomorrow morning at dawn. May the gods have mercy on your soul, for I have none to spare on you.”

She began to scream, begging and pleading for the king to reconsider. Cursing Warren and flinging every scathing insult she knew. King Aaron had her removed from the throne room and waited for her wailing to fade down the halls before turning his attention to the men.

“As for you four…” All of them cowered. One looked like he was going to be sick while another looked faint. “I am inclined to have you share in your mistress’ fate. You might have been under orders, but at some point it should have occurred to one of you that your actions were deplorable. What do you think, Your Highness? Execution?”

Warren stared at every single one of them. They couldn’t hide away his sight this time, and he intended for them to see he was far from diminished after what they had done. When every single one of them had flinched away from his gaze, he looked to his king.

“I’d like to hear each of them speak.” He was fairly certain he knew which one he had vowed to unleash his wrath against, but he wanted to be sure. King Aaron inclined his head, a stern gaze and an extended hand inviting each man to speak. They tumbled over themselves with apologies and excuses and pleas for mercy. Except for the one who swore to the last that Warren had wanted everything that had happened to him. And then there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt left in Warren’s mind. When Warren nodded in satisfaction, King Aaron made a motion for silence and got it immediately.

“Your verdict, Your Highness?”

Warren extended a damning finger. “That one. That one deserves execution beside Thrush. As for the other three…” The three men held their breath. Warren shrugged. “I was thinking castration.”

Surprise flashed across King Aaron’s face. Then a soft smile of understanding. He turned to Caleb. “Think you can handle that Caleb?”

“Gladly.” Caleb’s vicious smile was absolutely terrifying, and the men flinched away from him. But the fleeting glances they turned up to Warren made it clear they recognized mercy when it was being given.

“Then our business is concluded.”

King Aaron had more words to dismiss everyone, but Warren wasn’t listening anymore. He turned and walked off the dais, needing to be a little less front and center to collect himself. Stepping off the dais a little too fast had him stumbling, but Ivy was suddenly beneath him. Her slighter frame caught his and she held him tight, steady against his trembling. Daniel’s hand scrubbed across his back, body shielding them from the majority of the onlookers in the throne room. Warren was happy his eyes were dry, but he still felt weak and out of breath, like he had been quick marched all day without rest.

“It’s over,” Ivy told him. “You did well. We’re so proud of you. You did so well.” Warren dropped his head over her shoulder, nodding and slowly breathing easier.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

The next few days were devoted to making ready to travel south to the border between Viamore and the lands of the King of Iazane. Warren eagerly did what he could to help, excited to leave court machinations behind for the familiarity of open road.

It wasn’t until they were exiting the city gates of Ravenrock, Warren astride a skittish young stallion with sword at his hip and bow across his back, that he managed to actually feel like himself again. King Aaron must have caught his pleased sigh because he turned back to grin. Warren nudged his horse ahead to ride even with the king.

“How likely are we to see fighting?”

“Why do you sound excited by that prospect?”

Warren deftly reined his horse in before the stallion could act up and bite the king’s horse. “Because this is the first time I haven’t felt half dead and surrounded by a battlefield where I don’t know any of the rules. Fighting is what I’m good at. Or was.”

King Aaron chuckles, but Warren can tell the mirth is tempered by a desire for a smooth trip. And worry that it will be anything but when they arrive in Iazane. “Caution and vigilance would not be misplaced.”

Warren nods. King Aaron sighs, eyes going disappointed, drawing Warren’s attention.

“Going to a hostile nation where there is a good chance of fighting is not how I imagined our honeymoon.”

Warren blinks, surprised. “You imagined ‘our’ honeymoon?”

King Aaron nods, shooting Warren a soft smile with a hint of mischief. “I did. It’s a little too early in the season for going to the coast; too much rain to be any fun. The mountains would be beautiful, all blooming with mountain laurel and wildflowers. Or the manor out in the country. The hunting and fishing there are wonderful if you’re so inclined.”

The thought is foreign for some reason. Warren doesn’t quite know why, because King Aaron has never been anything less than attentive to convincing the kingdom this is a real marriage. He’s even convincing to his ‘consorts’, thoughtful and conscientious to their wants and preferences. Everything tailored as closely as he can manage towards making this situation ideal. Warren half wonders if the king hasn’t convinced himself at this point.

A piping melody pulls his attention behind them to where Daniel is blowing across a set of panpipes. The boy warms up a bit, then proves he has a good deal of skill as he plays in earnest. The music lilts into a well-known tavern song. Warren has to glance over his shoulder again when Ivy begins to sing along. She’s quite skilled as well.

Warren casts a glance at King Aaron and gets a smile back. The two young consorts put on a splendid impromptu performance, gaining a round of applause and a couple called requests from the soldiers escorting them. One of the men leading the procession calls back to the king.

“Quite the pair of songbirds you have there, Your Majesty.”

King Aaron laughs. “So it would seem.”

Ivy and Daniel eagerly entertain for a little while as they travel. They talk and laugh with the soldiers, easily endearing themselves to the entire company. Warren talks to the soldiers too, but he aims the conversations subtly. If the soldiers realize he’s taking measure of their individual strengths and weaknesses, they don’t mention it. Warren grows more comfortable the more he learns how the company shapes up in a fight and their skills in working together to deal with whatever may come. By the time they are coming to the border five days later, Warren thinks he has them all figured out well enough.

They cross from Viamore into Iazane and meet with another company that will join them for the rest of the three day ride to the castle of Riverhead. Crossing the border brings an end to the playful music and easy conversation. The company updates the king as they ride and the picture they paint is grim. Riverhead is taken by King Aaron’s forces, but King Kairo is still ruling with an iron fist. His soldiers follow orders given by the Viamorean commanders, but they’re just as likely to brutalize their own people in lieu of fighting the enemy forces.

The Tyrant himself has been dispensing judgement on his people with harsh punishments for every perceived infraction. The reports say he killed all his generals with his own hand, claiming mutiny and treason for surrendering without his authority.

Warren lays his bow across his lap, arrow to string, and leaves it there. He doesn’t trust that some band of enemy soldiers won’t attempt to take King Aaron’s head as a trophy to buy their way into King Kairo’s good graces. His caution is well deserved.

The shiver that goes down his spine as they pick a path through a decimated town puts him on high alert. His eyes scan the war ravaged shop fronts and roof tops. “Captain Argo? When was the last time your scouts checked in?”

The Captain is just as on edge. “They should have checked in on the outskirts of this town.” Warren’s eyes go wide as he whips his attention towards the Captain.

“Then why did we-?!” His outraged question at the poor tactics cuts off as his eyes fix on the arrow fletching protruding through Captain Argo’s throat. It was the last mistake the Captain would ever make. Warren scans the combined companies before Captain Argo has even fallen from his horse, looking to the Lieutenant that had joined them at the border as three other men hit the ground dead. When he finds the man panicking instead of leading, he roars.

“Shields, to the King! Protect His Majesty and the consorts! Cavalry lead the way! Move!” He lifts his bow as arrows come raining down, enemy soldiers responding to his orders just as much as the men around him are. He’s still barking commands as he puts an arrow through the chest of a bowman leaning out for a shot over a rooftop. “Giles, Elford, Joplin, take your units and spread out! Stick to formation and punch through behind the horses. Archers, to me!”

He kicked his horse into a charge as the foot soldiers moved. With the cavalry and shield men leading the charge and drawing fire, Warren and the rest of the bowmen have easy pickings, killing enemy soldiers, often before they can line up their shots. Covering the footmen as they push through the enemy line that had attempted to stop their progress down the main street and picking off Iazanian foot soldiers when the arrows raining down from above are coming down thinner.

The enemy line breaks as Warren pushes the Viamoreans through from behind, and he slings his bow over his shoulder, switching to his blade when close combat becomes unavoidable. The ambush dissolves in the wake of Warren’s quick charge to get everyone out of the killzone.

When shops and markets give way to houses, Warren sheaths his sword and pulls his bow off his shoulder, preferring the range to fight ahead or behind as needed. He rises in his stirrups to get a look ahead, but it doesn’t appear anyone was waiting on the other side for them. The Iazanian’s had hoped to catch them all before they could react, shooting them like fish in a barrel. Warren grits his teeth as he sits back in his saddle and uses his knees to guide his stallion around.

“Cavalry! To me!”

He reins his horse in from another excited charge, letting the stallion prance beneath him as the horsemen array on either side of him. Ready if the Iazanian’s attempt to follow their retreat. It seems most of the enemy soldiers have been dealt with, and at a minimum of loss to the Viamorean’s. But Warren is still fuming as they turn to rejoin the rest of company, waiting and guarding King Aaron with Ivy and Daniel.

Warren slides off his horse, weak leg almost buckling beneath him as he lands. He ignores it to stalk up to Lieutenant Foster in a rage, grasping up handfuls of the man’s tunic and snarling in his pale face. “You coward! You gods damned foolish coward! You froze! You should have taken charge, of your men at the very least, as soon as the first arrow hit, but you froze. You could have gotten every man in your command killed!”

A hand closes around his shoulder and another eases his fists out of Foster’s clothes. “Peace, Warren. Calm down.” The king’s low soothing tone is a command no matter how gently he delivered it. Warren roughly shoves Foster away and drops his hands to clench at his sides. King Aaron carefully places himself between Warren and the trembling Lieutenant. “He knows, Warren. Berating him is unnecessary. He knows.”

Warren’s eyes flash as he fixes King Aaron with the weight of his fury instead. “You’re too kind.”

King Aaron doesn’t flinch. Only smiles gently. “And you are incredibly protective. Both traits that can be flaw or strength, depending on the quantity. So I suppose we will just have to balance each other out, hm?”

Warren lets out a breath, eyes dropping from that steady gaze. The brown eyes that are dark and warm in this moment. King Aaron’s steady hand curves around the side of his neck, thumb sweeping the edge of his jaw in a silent praise.

He cocks his head, both leaning into the warm touch and peeking around King Aaron’s broad shoulders at Lieutenant Foster. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have laid hands on you. Or yelled.” The Lieutenant had regained a little color and steadied at the king’s intervention. He made a low bow.

“I’m sorry Your Highness, for my cowardice. I will do my best to never lose my nerve again. Thank you, for taking charge when I could not.”

Warren took another deep breath and nodded tersely. “Well Lieutenant? Get your company mounted up and moving again. We still have ground to cover before laying eyes on Riverhead.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness.”

Warren feels heat creeping up his neck when King Aaron gives his shoulder one last squeeze, an amused look brightening his eyes before he turned away. Warren rolled his neck and shoulders as the company is checked over for injuries and remounted. Ivy and Daniel drift his way and hover, shaky and wary after their first taste of a battlefield. Warren gives them both grim smiles, steel in his spine and a fire in his eyes that promises he’ll keep them safe.

They’re still a day out from the capital city of Riverhead when they see signs of the Tyrant King’s insanity. The road into the city has been lined with the crucified bodies of the men and women the king has sentenced to death. The stench of rot is overwhelming, and the sight of the brutality has Ivy and some of the men physically sick.

Warren feels ill as well, but it’s a sickness of the heart. The people here have been stripped and branded across the chests with King Kairo’s crest. His twisted seal of approval. A list of their ‘crimes’ is nailed above their heads, briefly describing what they had died for.

Still on edge and cautious, Warren whips his bow up and draws in the space of a heartbeat when he hears something and catches movement out of the corner of his eye. The company around him are just as quickly alert and armed. Warren’s keen eyes search the surrounding area in the immediate vicinity before his attention finally fixes on what had caught against his senses.

A soft voice whispers, barely above a breath. “Please. Water, please.”

Warren lowers his bow, reducing the tension on the string, taking in the man that apparently still lives. If only barely. He guides his horse a little closer. The man’s body is burned and blistered from the sun beating down on him, in addition to the brand across his chest. Tattoos, looking like feather tips, wrap his ribs and sweep down his flanks, making Warren wonder if the man has wings tattooed across the entirety of his back. Guiding his horse right in front of the cross, Warren ducks to get a look at the face hidden by an exhausted slump and shoulder length chestnut hair.

The man parts chapped, broken lips to beg once more. “Water. Please.”

Tugging his waterskin out, Warren has to stand in his stirrups to reach. One of the soldiers mutters behind him as he does.

“It would be kinder to just kill him.”

Warren ignores the comment, cupping the man’s chin to tilt him enough and pour the water into his mouth. The man desperately gulps at it, whimpering. When he’s taken in several swallows, Warren pulls away again, listening to the gratitude the man breathes next.

“What’s your name?”

“Raven Elias.” The man struggles until he manages to raise his eyes and head enough to get a look at Warren. His chin drops back to his burned chest with a sigh. “Thank you, sir. May God bless you.”

Nodding, Warren’s eyes lift to the crime nailed above the man’s head before falling back down. “Traitor? How did you earn that crime?”

“Harboring soldiers in the church.”

Warren stills. He blinks in surprise, not quite sure he believes it. “Harboring Viamorean soldiers?”

Raven manages a nod. “I believed help should be given, no matter the country or creed. I was wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.” Warren stands in his stirrups again, reaching for the nails pinning wrist to cross. A murmur goes up behind him, questions and predictions of inviting the anger of the Tyrant. Warren growls over his shoulder. “This man aided our men. So we can aide him now. And if King Kairo can remember one man out of the hundreds left to die on this road, I’ll be surprised.”

King Aaron is suddenly beside him, drawing his horse up under Raven and reaching up to catch the man. “Get him loose Warren. I’ve got him.”

Warren nods grimly, but the nails won’t budge by his strength alone. There’s no good way to lever them out either. So with a whispered apology, Warren grits his teeth and grasps the man’s wrist to yank them through. Raven Elias screams and buckles. Warren hurries to free the other wrist, wishing there had been another way.

King Aaron gathers the shivering man into him, holding him while the soldiers mutely bring forward trousers and tunic dragged out of personal stores. Warren helps where he can, careful to make sure the tattoos, which are indeed wings spanning Raven’s back, are fully covered. Because while he fully believes the Tyrant king won’t be able to recognize Raven’s face, his wings are much more distinctive.

They bandage Raven’s wrists to staunch the bleeding. King Aaron arranges Raven to sit in front of him on his horse and they proceed once more. Warren readies his bow once more, arrow to string and sitting across his lap to be lifted at the first sign of trouble. The gates of Riverhead soon loom ahead of them. A soft whimper draws Warren’s attention in front of him to the king. Raven cowers away from the city, pressing into King Aaron’s chest. King Aaron sets his jaw, holding Raven securely and murmuring reassurances.

The sight of it hurts. Warren just doesn’t know why.

The city gates are thrown wide, and a mix of Viamorean and Iazanian soldiers stand at attention to see them through. The streets are deserted. No people come out to see the Royal procession. Everything is shuttered and locked tight, the people hiding away from everything going on in their city. In their country.

The palace sprawls, much more so than the castle at Ravenrock does. These gates stand open already, so King Aaron’s retinue rides in. A balcony overlooking the courtyard holds the Royal Iazanian family. King Kairo looks down on King Aaron and his company, looking smug despite his city having been occupied by enemy troops for the past two weeks. His three daughters stand behind him, beautiful and deadly. Even with the distance between them Warren can see the cold glitter of calculation in their eyes.

They are three coiled vipers, just waiting for an opportunity to strike.

King Kairo calls down to them. “Hail, King Aaron. I trust your trip was uneventful.”

“Well enough,” King Aaron called back. “Though I must say, the scenery on the road into your fair city isn’t exactly a pleasure to behold.”

The Tyrant King laughed. “And yet, you seem to have found something enough to your liking that you decided to bring it with you.” He must have caught King Aaron stiffening, or maybe Warren, because he gave a toothy smile. “That’s alright. That one showed more loyalty to you and yours anyways. Keep it. I’ve no use for a bird with clipped wings that betrays its own country.”

“I’ve come to negotiate the terms of your surrender, Kairo. Are you ready to receive me or do you intend to posture for a little while longer?”

The easy smile became strained. “The men who surrendered are dead. But since you occupy my home and my city, I suppose I am obliged to dealing with you.” He looks over his shoulder and says something to his daughters, low and turned away so his words are unintelligible.

Warren tenses, fingers tightening on his bow and ever watchful. He doesn’t trust any of this.

King Kairo turns to face the courtyard again as his daughters turn to disappear. “My daughters will show you to the audience chambers, King Aaron. Your consorts may follow the slaves to the guest wing, and I suppose your soldiers will go where they please, as they have been doing for some time now.” Without another word or a pause for reply, King Kairo turns on his heel and walks back into the palace, disappearing.

Warren grits his teeth, warily watching as collared men and women slink into the courtyard to receive horses and help disperse the king’s retinue. He remains atop his horse and keeps the height advantage for as long as he can, but eventually he is forced to dismount. He finds King Aaron transferring Raven to a soldier, giving instructions to get the man comfortable and look after him. The crowd in the courtyard slowly thins, until Warren can see the three Tyrant’s daughters waiting for them.

He steps in close to King Aaron, leaning in and speaking low. “If you think I’m going to go wait meekly in a fancy cell, you are mistaken.” King Aaron chuckles at Warren’s declaration. He glances at Ivy and Daniel hovering and ready to follow in his wake as well.

“Come along then, my dears.” He offers his arm to Ivy and escorts her towards the three girls hovering. Warren gestures Daniel along behind them and puts away his bow, slinging it across his shoulder. It likely won’t be useful in the close halls. Not as useful as his sword. King Aaron’s personal guard falls in before and behind their king.

The eldest daughter leads the way. The two younger girls wait until Warren has passed them to fall in at the back of their little parade. His attention is directed at them just as much as around for any possible threat to King Aaron, so he doesn’t jump like he might have when a light touch skims against his burnt hand.

“Who did this to you?”

Warren glances to his side, where the youngest daughter is pacing him. Her eyes rove over his burn scars on his face and take in the limp he can’t hide no matter how he tries. “The war,” he responds tersely.

“They’re pretty. What’s your name?”

He’s not sure he likes the way she tells him his scars are ‘pretty’. He also briefly considers giving her his entire title. In the end, he just gives her his name and leaves it at that. She smiles and asks no more questions, but she stays abreast of him through the corridors until they arrive at the audience chamber. The three sisters join their father, flanking him where he is seated at a large table.

King Aaron sits across from the rival monarch. Ivy and Daniel sit on either side of him when Warren elects to stand along with the personal guard. King Kairo raises a brow but doesn’t comment on the fact that his instructions to separate king from consorts has been ignored. Warren is given a considering look, more direct and critical than he would have preferred.

Finally, the Tyrant’s gaze drops to King Aaron and he begins in a clipped manner. “You wanted to discuss surrender. Speak. Give me good reason not to make a few field promotions and move on your heathen country as soon as I’m able.”

What follows is a good deal of nothing productive. It’s late and they’ve made absolutely no progress by the time King Aaron calls it enough. They retire, following a skittish young woman through the halls to the guest wing and the rooms they’ve been given. Most of the soldiers are in the barracks, or scattered throughout the castle, depending on how long they’ve occupied the palace. There are still a half dozen soldiers on a rotational guard in the borrowed apartments.

No one is taking any chances, it would seem.

King Aaron sighs deeply, scrubbing a hand across his face for a moment. When he lifts his head again, he looks tired. He suggests Ivy and Daniel get some sleep, and they go without complaint, obviously overwhelmed and just as tired. King Aaron rests a hand against Warren’s shoulder, squeezing firmly on his way past. Curious, Warren follows King Aaron as he makes an inquiry. Still curious when that question is answered, Warren shadows the king to a little corner out of the way where a field medic has been caring for Raven.

Raven notices King Aaron approaching and his eyes widen, obviously more alert now. The man wiggles on his cot, attempting to get up and too weak to do so. King Aaron eases Raven back down with a gentle tone and a hand smoothing the man’s hair.

“Hush now. Rest.”

Warren clenches his teeth. The scene brings back memories of not so long ago, when he had been the one too weak to get up. He’s about to turn away and leave them to it when Raven’s soft voice pleads.

“The man who saved me. The one who gave me water. Where is he?”

King Aaron glances over his shoulder and meets Warren’s eyes. Swallowing, Warren stops lurking and moves closer. King Aaron straightens and makes room for him. Raven exhales in relief as Warren approaches and reaches for a hand. Warren lets the man take it, perching on the edge of the cot to speak with him.

“Thank you, for saving me. I can’t remember if I managed to speak it before and I’m sure I’ll never express enough gratitude. If there is anything I can do for you, God willing, I’ll do whatever you need of me.”

Warren manages a smile, grip firm around the weak and trembling hand. “It’s alright. I was only trying to repay you for kindness shown to enemy soldiers.” Hoping that is all that’s required of him for the rest of the night, Warren starts to stand. A desperate tightening around his hand and a fearful inhale draws his attention back around.

“I know I have no right to ask this of you. But please. Don’t leave me here. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Even through the gates of hell. But don’t leave me here.”

Warren glances back at King Aaron. He gets a brief nod in return. “Alright. You have my word. You can accompany us back to Viamore.”

“Thank you.” Raven lets go of his hand, relaxing and looking ready to sleep. Warren gets to his feet, taking a moment to pull the blanket up before leaving the man to rest. He checks on Ivy and Daniel as well, finding them sharing a bed and fast asleep already. Looking around, Warren notes the limited space has forced most of their group to share sleeping accommodations. Turning, he finds King Aaron slipping into the bedroom reserved for him.

Taking stock of the options left to him, Warren steels himself and follows the king. King Aaron looks up from disrobing as he enters, brow furrowing. “Everything alright?”

Warren nods, unable to make eye contact as he approaches the bed and sits to pull off his boots. He casts a look over his shoulder at King Aaron as he sets aside his weapons, within easy reach should he need them in the middle of the night. “If you don’t mind sharing, I think I’ll be more comfortable if I can be sure you’re safe in the night.”

King Aaron finishes pulling off the majority of his clothes. He doesn’t turn to meet Warren’s gaze, seeming to find the floor more interesting. “Is that the only reason?”

Hesitating, Warren glances back at King Aaron before starting to undress himself. “Do I need another?” King Aaron says no, but his tone is flat instead of reassuring. Still, he climbs into bed and tugs back the covers, inviting Warren in. Warren puts out as many lights as he can before finishing getting undressed, hoping the darkness will cover most of the damage to his body. King Aaron has already seen it, but it doesn’t mean Warren enjoys showing off his skin.

He slips under the covers and lays shoulder to shoulder with King Aaron. The king sighs into the darkness and whispers. “Good night Warren.”

“Good night, King Aaron.” He doesn’t have trouble relaxing, and he’s certainly tired. But sleep eludes him as his leg suddenly becomes harder to ignore. The throbbing pain from overworking it over the course of the day has him not only unable to sleep but fidgeting in discomfort as well. He attempts to stay still, so he won’t bother King Aaron. The soft murmur proves all efforts were in vain.

“Are you alright?”

Warren grimaces. He could try to say he’s fine, but the king will doubtless know better and insist on the truth. Whispering in the dark, he responds with a short, “leg hurts.”

King Aaron rolls onto his side, looking across the bed at Warren. “Can I help?” Warren holds his breath, debating just dealing with it. Then he blows out a sigh and nods.

“Please.”

King Aaron sits up and shifts down the bed as he waits for Warren to prop himself up against the headboard. Warm hands skim down the soldier’s leg until he can lift Warren’s leg out from beneath the covers and into his lap. He starts at Warren’s toes and moves upwards to his hip at an unhurried pace. The firm kneading of the overworked muscles does the trick well enough and Warren’s breathing slows. King Aaron smiles when Warren begins to nod, sleep claiming the soldier as he works his way up the man’s thigh. Deciding he’s accomplished what he meant to, King Aaron carefully prompts Warren down and covers him up.

Warren hums in contentment and drifts away.

Someone opens the door to their bedroom in the morning and Warren is on his feet with sword free before he’s fully awake. The soldier hovering in the doorway and looking between Warren and King Aaron in shock rasps a little.

“Sorry. I guess I should have knocked.”

Warren growls, nothing resembling words coming out. The soldier squeaks another apology and retreats. A soft laugh draws Warren’s attention to the bed, where King Aaron has his head propped up on his hand and is grinning.

“It’s not funny.” Warren snaps his sword back into its sheath and slumps back onto the bed. “Who was that? I want to know his name when I have him flogged.”

King Aaron only laughs harder. “Flogged? For what?”

Warren considers for a moment. Then huffs, “dereliction of duty.”

“I believe his name is Bailey, and he was with one of the companies that took the palace. Which might explain why he’s overly familiar with entering rooms and rather jumpy.”

Sighing, Warren casts a look over his shoulder. “So you’re saying I can’t flog him?”

King Aaron gives him a fond smile. “I’m saying perhaps reconsidering after breakfast wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He chuckles at Warren’s pout and slides out of bed. His fingers slip through Warren’s hair, taming the bedhead for a moment before tipping Warren’s head back to lay a kiss against his forehead. “Get dressed now love.”

Warren blinks at the endearment, but the king is already turning away to get dressed himself. Getting to his feet, Warren pulls his clothes on and straps his sword around his hips. When they’re both ready, they move out of the room to find Ivy and Daniel. Both are wearing their crowns to go to the royal breakfast a slave has come to fetch them for, so Warren reluctantly digs his own out and plops it on his head.

He slips into the other room to check on Raven before they leave but finds the man asleep. A brief word with the medic ensures Raven will have something to eat when he wakes up and Warren calls that good for the time being. King Aaron smiles as he joins them to leave, reaching up to adjust the crown on his head. Then they follow the slave through the corridors to a well-appointed dining hall.

King Kairo is already there at the head of the table, feeding tidbits to a slave girl perched in his lap. King Aaron heads for the other end of the table, ushered there by a slave. Warren makes to follow him and jumps when a hand slips into the crook of his elbow. Turning, he finds the smiling face of the youngest daughter.

“Good morning.”

“Uh, good morning.”

“Sit with me.”

Warren swallows, casting a glance at King Aaron. Something twists in his gut when he finds the eldest daughter has slid into the seat to King Aaron’s right. The one Warren usually occupies. The youngest daughter leads him to sit between the eldest and herself. She introduces herself as Mihka, and she tells him his scars are pretty again. Tells him how handsome he is and asks how he got his scars.

She’s polite and sweet and smiles genuinely enough. But Warren still feels there’s something off about her. He sends a look around the table to find similar discomfort, and not just from his family. Next to him, the eldest girl is attempting to hold conversation with King Aaron and obviously nervous. On King Aaron’s other side, Daniel and the middle daughter keep casting wary looks at each other, both silent.

King Kairo is making an attempt to talk to Ivy. Ivy seems much more interested in the girl sitting on his lap, expertly steering the conversation to include the slave and irritating King Kairo with her bland dismissal of his attentions.

When breakfast is through and the dishes cleared away, King Kairo pushes the girl off his lap and directs her to kneel at his feet. He lays a possessive hand on her shoulder absently, eyes directed across the table to King Aaron. The conversation stills around the table.

“I’ve had some time to consider.” King Kairo starts. “You brought up some good points last night. After a little digging, I think you might have something I could consider ending this war for.”

King Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

“It is common for countries to join by marriage. Especially when concluding such a long-lasting altercation.”

Warren knows King Aaron had been expecting this. There’s still tension in his voice as King Aaron asks, “so you want me to marry one of your daughters?” The three girls look varying degrees of repulsed by that idea. Warren’s attention swings back up the table when King Kairo scoffs.

“No. Not you, King Aaron.” There’s something feral in his smile as the Tyrant King looks directly at Warren. “My youngest daughter fancies your pet war hero.” Tension makes the air sharp and heavy about Warren’s shoulders. He glances at Mihka next to him and gets a hopeful smile back.

Warren mentally flounders for a moment before managing to speak. “Me? I- I’m not of noble birth. And I’m already married to King Aaron. I can’t marry your daughter.”

King Kairo shrugs. “A divorce or annulment will solve that. I don’t personally care either way. I just want the man who disrupted a well thought out trap and slaughtered five hundred of my men with a company of twenty. And then the entire war shifts in his favor when King Aaron hauls you off to the castle? To say nothing of the little skirmish just inside my borders. Not mere coincidence is it? It was all you. You, with your mind for tactics and your tenacity to live. I think you could fit in just fine here. What do you think?”

“He won’t do it.”

Warren dragged his gaze away from the leering Tyrant to look at King Aaron when he growled. King Aaron stared down the table at King Kairo, fists clenched and eyes narrowed. King Kairo leaned back in his seat, the picture of ease.

“He won’t? Or you won’t allow him?” King Kairo grinned, eyes cold. “Come now, King Aaron. Is he really worth a war to you? Is your pride such that you can’t let go of what you’ve claimed as yours? I promise, he’ll be well taken care of here. It’s not many political hostage marriages that don’t require Royal blood. You should count yourself lucky I don’t feel the need to back you into a corner. All I’m asking for is a single retired soldier.”

“Warren is not-”

“We’ll discuss it.”

Everyone was immediately looking at Warren. He kept his chin high and ignored the excited inhale Mihka made next to him. He carefully ignored the distress coming from King Aaron and his fellow consorts as well. His eyes were fixed on King Kairo’s grin.

“Give us a couple days to discuss it and we’ll see if an agreement can be reached, or a compromise proposed.”

“Granted. Take this day and the next. We can reconvene then and see what has been decided.”

Warren dipped his head in a grateful nod. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Please excuse us.” He gently removed Mihka’s hand from his arm and got to his feet. King Aaron shoved to his feet and stalked for the door. Ivy and Daniel hurried to follow. Warren ushered them all out ahead of him and they headed back to their apartments.

The door has only just closed behind them when King Aaron rounds on Warren. “This is just a bid for time, right? A way to stall while we come up with some other bargaining chip?”

Warren cocks his head, confused. “No. I think we should actually discuss it.”

King Aaron darkens. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? You knew some sort of political marriage was likely.”

“Yes, for me! Not for you.”

“What’s the difference?!” Warren shakes his head, glaring when King Aaron opens his mouth. “It’s a good deal and I think you should take it. This will suit our purposes just as well as his. The Tyrant stops attacking our country, we lay the foundation for an alliance, you’re not forced into another loveless marriage, and if I’m here I can keep an eye on him. Maybe he thinks he can twist me against you but he’s wrong.”

King Aaron has gone still, brown eyes stormy. “I’m not worried about you betraying me, Warren. I’m worried that you are sacrificing yourself for me. You don’t need to do that! It’s not your responsibility to carry a war treaty on your shoulders! You’ve served me well. Better and further than I ever could have asked of you. I won’t ask you to take this on too.”

“I know you won’t. Which is why I’m volunteering.”

The king shakes his head, turning to pace. His hand clenches around the hilt of his sword as the other curls into a fist at his side. “No. No, I won’t let you do this. Find another way. Come up with something else. Give me something else to offer.”

Warren frowns, frustration setting in and turning his tone sharp. “There is no other way. You heard him last night! Everything you proposed he refused, and everything he proposed left you at a disadvantage. This is the first deal where there is a mutual gain that you’re both happy with.”

King Aaron halts his pacing to round on Warren, snarling. “I am _not_ happy with this. I will _never_ be happy with this. He is sorely mistaken if he thinks I’d ever take this deal. You’ve seen what that bastard does to his own people! What do you think he’ll be doing to you as soon as I’ve left the palace gates?!”

Warren goes still, imagining quite well. “One more life and the war is over.”

“Not your life!” King Aaron roars. “If I’ve got to take this palace on my own… If I have to slaughter everyone and rip this place apart stone by stone… I’d sooner do that than throw you on the mercy of a bloodthirsty tyrant!”

“I’m not worth that!” Warren’s fists clench at his sides, back straight and feet apart. His body is braced for a fight, though he knows he could never raise a hand to the man before him. “My worth is solely how I can be of use to you. Don’t you understand that?! Your life is the most important thing to me, and if this is how I keep you safe then I’ll do it. Happily! I’m only worth the use you can get out of me so if all I’m good for to you is to sit in luxury as a fat, lazy, pampered pet then I’m worthless! I’d rather die here, doing whatever I can for you and my country, than live as nothing.”

“You’re not worthless-”

“Then let me do this! What are you so afraid of losing?! If the war ends you don’t need me for my tactics anymore. What good am I if there’s no longer a fight?!”

The sudden silence is deafening. Most had made a quiet and unobtrusive retreat once the argument had grown heated, leaving only Ivy and Daniel to bear witness. King Aaron clenches his teeth. Warren waits anxiously for his king’s answer.

“I won’t let you be a martyr. Find another way.” King Aaron turns and disappears into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Warren swallows, trying to keep his throat from closing up. He shifts on his feet, wanting to get out of this place. Wanting an escape and having no safe place to go to find one. He wants to scream. He wants to chase King Aaron into the bedroom and shake him until he sees sense.

“Warren?”

“Not now, Daniel.”

Warren goes the opposite direction, putting what distance he can between them in the limited space provided. He ends up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the wall next to Raven’s cot. He starts to run his fingers through his hair and knocks his crown askew. Pulling it off, he has a strong desire to hurl it against a wall. Sighing, he turns it in his hands, arms propped on his knees.

“Are you alright?”

Warren lifts his head, finding Raven watching him. His gaze falls back to the crown in his hands. “I’m- No. I’m not alright. Sorry for waking you Raven.” His voice is rough, and he clears his throat gruffly.

“That’s quite alright, Your…Majesty?”

Warren huffs. “Highness. But you can just call me Warren.”

Raven nods. “Then, feel free to call me Elias. I don’t believe anyone but you is using my title anymore anyways.”

Lifting his head, Warren looks at Raven in confusion. “Raven is a title?” He eagerly seizes on the distraction. The man nods, confused himself, then features smoothing in understanding.

“I believe you would call me a priest in your country. The clergy here are given titles of birds based on our placement in the hierarchy. In honor of our God of the Heavens. We start out Sparrow’s. The Albatross is the highest.”

“That explains the tattoos then?”

Raven nods. “They are added onto as we elevate our position. I know it is unbecoming for a man of God to be proud, but I must confess, my wings are precious to me.”

Warren smiles. “They are very impressive.” There’s a brief pause between them before Raven Elias offers.

“I know I’m not technically a Raven anymore, and I’m not of your country’s religion, but I can still listen, if you’d like to unburden yourself.”

Leaning back, Warren rests his head against the wall. “I have nothing I wish to confess, but if you wouldn’t mind just talking with me…?”

Elias nods and picks a topic. The distraction helps. Warren manages to calm and tries to see things from King Aaron’s point of view. He knows the king likes him. It’s obvious the king likes him, maybe even more than Warren actually deserves. But surely King Aaron wouldn’t throw his kingdom back into war over one man.

Especially since he knows King Aaron wouldn’t have hesitated if one of the Tyrant’s daughters had wanted to marry him. This is only because they want Warren instead. The king will throw himself on the sword easily enough, but gods forbid someone else try for him.

He does try to think of another option. Something everyone might be happy with. Or at least find acceptable. Nothing really strikes him as a ‘better’ option. Simply shifting the sacrifice from one individual to the next. Warren can’t in good conscience put the burden on someone else. He certainly doesn’t want to leave it all on King Aaron, no matter how much the man seems comfortable with giving up his own freedoms.

Warren refuses dinner. He’s not sure he can be good company. Not to anyone besides Raven. The man is blessedly easy to get along with and doesn’t come with any uncomfortable expectations. And when Warren listens to King Aaron disappearing into his bedroom with Ivy and Daniel on his heels, the sting of a prolonged argument is eased with a few kind words from the man. Warren crawls into the bed Ivy and Daniel had occupied the previous night, curling up alone and hoping for some stroke of genius to hit him during the night.

Nothing so fortunate happens, and the next day is a revolving pattern of heated argument and avoidance. They haven’t managed to resolve anything by the time there’s a knock on the door to invite them to a formal dinner. Warren clenches his teeth, seething and frustrated and honestly hurt. He’s in no mood to stand on ceremony, but he thinks to refuse an appearance would be a sign of a schism. A weakness between King Aaron and himself that could be exploited.

And the last thing he wants is to deal with outward threats while he’s dealing with inner turmoil.

So he puts on his best front and hopes no one sees through him as he follows the king and his consorts to the dining room. He takes a seat next to King Aaron, trying for a show of normalcy. Though the attempts might be unneeded as King Kairo seems more interested in flirting with Ivy that scrutinizing them. King Aaron growls a warning to leave his wife alone just before Warren would have done so. Something eases slightly at the evidence that they’re still united on some front.

Warren narrows his eyes and the ease evaporates when he catches King Kairo drawling at Ivy. “Does it really take three men to please you, Your Highness? Perhaps you just haven’t found the right one. I’ve been told I’m quite skilled, isn’t that right pet?”

The last was said to the slave girl in his lap. Along with a tight grip on her chin to angle her gaze towards him. The girl whispered a trembling, “yes, Your Majesty.” The response satisfied him into letting the girl loose with a smile.

Ivy muttered something into her wine.

King Kairo gave her a sharp look. “What was that, my dear?”

“I said it takes a woman to fully please another woman,” Ivy repeated with a dangerous smile. “And I’ll thank you to address me with respect.”

“A woman?!” King Kairo looks bemused at Ivy’s hum of agreement. He abruptly shoves the girl out of his lap and onto the floor, giving her a nudge in the rump with his foot to prompt her towards Ivy. “Show me.”

Ivy raises a brow. “What do I get out of it?”

King Kairo considers for a moment. Then he grins. “Her.” He gestures to the slave girl. “Prove how skilled you are, and you can have her.”

Giving a put upon huff, Ivy reaches down and pulls the girl into her lap. Warren glances at King Aaron. The king bites his lip, shaking his head minutely. Ivy is quite unabashed as she arranges the slave girl, whispering in her ear. The girl flushes, but seems to relax as Ivy slips a hand beneath her short shift.

Warren swallows at the soft gasp the girl makes, her eyes rolling before they close. Somehow, he feels like he should look away, though he doesn’t know how that would help, what with King Kairo watching like a hawk. A glance at King Aaron gulping his wine and refilling his glass suggests he feels similarly. Warren finishes off his own glass and mutely holds it out for more. King Aaron deftly fills it for him without hesitation.

The girl in Ivy’s lap shivers, her fingers clenching in Ivy’s dress. Ivy tilts her head into the woman’s, whispering into her ear as she watches what she’s doing between the woman’s spread thighs. Her other hand slides over the thin fabric barely covering the woman and drags a keen out as she cups a breast. The woman trembles and shifts, hips tilting into Ivy’s hands. Her breathing comes faster. Her body shivers. Soft whimpers begin to fall from her open mouth as her brow furrows.

Ivy pays close attention to all of it. Light touches and dragging caresses mix with quick pinches and the soft scrape of fingernails. The girl suddenly inhales sharply, mouth falling open as her head drops back onto Ivy’s shoulder. She wiggles, seemingly without control, thighs spreading and toes looking for purchase to buck up into Ivy’s hand. Ivy grins, thumb gently teasing a nipple while she backs off to tease again. The girl whimpers, hands grasping at Ivy’s arms, though it doesn’t look like she is making any attempt to stop the ministrations.

Ivy’s smile fades as she concentrates, hand beneath the girl’s shift picking up speed. The girl’s breath hitches, sharp exhales and shivery moans escaping her as Ivy’s fingers push her towards completion. The girl whines, fingers digging in harder and eyes rolling, hips jerking as she trembles and struggles. Until her back arches with a cry as she reaches climax.

Ivy smiles as the woman shudders through it, but she doesn’t stop. She softly murmurs in the woman’s ear again. Her other hand skims down the woman’s body to delve between her legs as well. That and a deft twist of her hand bring the woman over again, right on the heels of the first. 

Ivy pauses, giving the girl a moment to catch her breath, then starts again. Slowly. A steady build that has the woman writhing in her lap, begging for more as her hips rock desperately. With both Ivy’s hands beneath the girls shift and the frantic gyrating, the girls sex becomes visible. Ivy has a finger sunk deep into her soft folds, while her other hand spreads and teases around her opening. The girl gasps as Ivy picks up speed, quickly becoming a trembling mess as Ivy pushes hard, dragging high pitched wails from the woman’s throat.

Twisting, the girl turns into Ivy, their lips brushing for a moment. Ivy hums encouragingly when the girl pulls away nervously, soothing the fear and quickly reestablishing ease. Another soft kiss is shared and the girl moans with her completion.

Withdrawing her finger from the woman’s body, Ivy spreads slick and teases for a moment before plunging back in with two fingers. The girl lets out a long sound that might have been an attempt at a word. Ivy whispers a question, and when she gets a nod, she thrusts her fingers in hard, faster and faster until the girl is frantic with it. Soft pleas and whimpers of a pleasured distress fall uninhibited from the girl’s mouth as Ivy brings the girl to orgasm twice more in rapid succession.

The final climax has the girl contorted, head thrown back and spine arched, knees pulling up towards her chest as her toes curl and breath trapped in her lungs. Ivy holds her suspended in that blissful tension for a long moment, until the girl is shaking apart. Only then does Ivy remove her fingers to let the girl collapse and breathe harshly, rendered boneless in Ivy’s lap. Her chest heaves and she shivers a little, eyes closed with a look of bliss on her face. Ivy raises a brow at King Kairo, questioning.

King Kairo shrugs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “The girl is yours, Your Highness.”

Warren shifts in his seat, attempting to subtly adjust himself in his trousers. He cools slowly now that the show is over, and something wistful curls in his stomach as he notes Ivy tugging the girls shift down and offering her water. Mouthfuls of fruit are offered as well, slowly and gently until Ivy is sure the girl in her lap is as relaxed and cared for as possible.

“Have you come to an agreement about my offer?” Warren’s gaze is drawn back to King Kairo when the question is directed at him. The Tyrant smiles. “Or do you need another night?”

Warren isn’t sure what another night of argument will bring, but his answer matches King Aaron’s. “Another night. We’ll answer in the morning.”

King Kairo nods and leaves it be. Warren lets his gaze fall into his plate and tries desperately to find some solution. He drinks down more wine, wishing navigating politics were as straightforward as navigating a battlefield. When dinner concludes, they wander back to their apartments and disperse to rooms. Ivy takes the slave girl, undoubtedly intending to make her as comfortable as possible after their little show.

Daniel startles King Aaron with a firm hand around his wrist and an insistent tug towards the bedroom. They disappear and Warren sighs, turning to find his own accommodations for the night. Not that he thinks he’ll be able to sleep. He drifts towards Raven, hoping for a sympathetic ear. But the man is asleep and Warren won’t wake him. He jumps when someone grabs his shoulders and steers him around. Glancing back, he finds Daniel with a determined look on his face.

“Daniel, what-”

“Hush Warren. Come to bed.”

Warren frowns, but he lets Daniel push him into the bedroom with King Aaron and close the door behind them. He declines Daniel’s attempts to help him get undressed but can’t find it in him to fight the boy pushing him into bed. He’s wedged tightly between Daniel and King Aaron, the warm closeness a balm to him. Daniel’s breath tickles against the back of his neck when the boy whispers.

“What are we telling King Kairo tomorrow?”

Warren winces when he feels King Aaron stiffen in front of him. He shifts to press his forehead against the king’s spine, a shaky breath escaping him. “I don’t know.”

“Please don’t leave us Warren.” Daniel presses in as tightly as he can, one arm sliding across Warren to grasp at King Aaron’s hip. “There has to be a better option than trading you for peace.”

Warren can’t answer. He just knows he’s willing to do whatever King Aaron needs of him. If only King Aaron would ask it of him. Sleep claims him and nightmares plague him. He remembers waking up at least once, tears staining his face, sweating and shaking. King Aaron has turned to hold him and Daniel fetches a glass of water for him, the two of them soothing him down and settling him back into sleep. In the morning, he pretends to still be asleep, hoping if he ignores the dawn hard enough it will stop creeping over the horizon.

Fingers carding through his hair drag him from his hazy fantasy and he reluctantly opens his eyes. Daniel presses a kiss to his temple, then leans across him to peck King Aaron on the forehead as well. The affection gets a soft smile from both of them, and then the boy is rolling out of bed to get dressed. King Aaron strokes his fingers through Warren’s hair again, a wistful expression on his face before he rolls to force himself from bed.

The silence is oppressive, but he can’t think of anything that hasn’t been said before. At varying levels of volume and stress. Except…

“King Aaron?”

“Hm?”

“I trust you. Whatever you decide this morning, I trust you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to support you and I’ll never begrudge you for it.”

King Aaron doesn’t turn to face him. His gaze is directed to the floor and his shoulders are tight. There’s a long moment of silence before his voice rasps from his throat. “I know.”

That’s the best they can do for now, so Warren slides from bed and pulls on his clothes. They make their way to the dining hall for breakfast and Warren narrowly avoids being separated from King Aaron’s side again. The Tyrant’s daughters always seem to be attempting to divide them from each other. Mihka claims his other side and vies for his attention at every opportunity. Warren can’t find it in him for much conversation regardless.

When the breakfast dishes are being cleared away, King Kairo turns a dangerous smile on King Aaron. “Well then. You’ve had your two days. Will you accept my deal? A cessation of hostilities in exchange for your war hero?”

King Aaron’s brown eyes slide to Warren, holding the soldiers gaze for a long moment. His mouth tightens and he shifts his focus back to King Kairo. Taking in a breath, he opens his mouth to speak.

And is interrupted as the doors slam open.

A pair of Iazanian soldiers haul a man in between them and throw him to the floor. The man makes an attempt to scramble up, and Warren inhales in surprise when he realizes it’s Raven. One of the guards stomps his foot into the center of Raven’s back, slamming him back to the floor to hold him there as King Kairo gets to his feet.

“What is this filth doing in my presence?”

“Caught him skulking this way, Your Majesty.”

A vicious grin splits King Kairo’s face as he stalks across the floor to Raven. “Is that so? Are you spying, traitor? Do you come to betray me again?” He slides his boot beneath Raven’s chin and lifts.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

King Kairo scoffs down at Raven. “I don’t think you are. Why else would you throw away my generous sparing of your life after coming back into my presence? Why else would you be here, sniveling at my feet, when you should be hiding away from my wrath like the vermin you are.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I needed to speak with His Highness Warren. I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“And now you disrespect me by putting a Prince Consort above me?! I have sorely underestimated your stupidity.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

The cruel glint in the Tyrant’s eyes had Warren shifting in his seat, ready to move should he need. King Kairo gave Raven’s chin a hard shove with the toe of his boot before placing it before him deliberately. “Show me how sorry you are.” Raven grimaced but didn’t hesitate to press his lips to the king’s boot. King Kairo grinned. “Beg my forgiveness.”

“Please, Your Majesty. I beg of you. Forgive me my stupidity and disrespect. Please. Mercy upon me Your most generous Majesty.”

King Kairo bared his teeth, feral and gleeful as he pushed one last time. “Call me your God.”

Raven froze. His wide eyes stared at King Kairo’s boot tip and he trembled. “I- I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I- That is a blasphemy I-”

“I didn’t ask you to confess your sins, filth. I said praise me as your precious God.” 

Raven took in a shuddering breath and shook his head. “I can’t, Your Majesty.” He whimpered when King Kairo shoved his face to the floor with the heel of his boot.

“Do it. Or I’ll have the wings flayed from your back.”

Choking, Raven whimpered into the floor. “I can’t, Your Majesty.” He flinched when King Kairo drew his knife and grabbed up a handful of his collar, putting blade to fabric to slice it out of the way and make good on his threat.

Warren jumped to his feet. “Stop!”

King Kairo turned his insane gaze on Warren. “What?”

Warren swallowed, feeling Raven’s desperate gaze on him and hearing King Aaron getting to his feet behind him. He fixed his eyes on King Kairo’s, holding steady with all his resolve. “That man is mine. He owes me his life, and I insist he remain intact until he has repaid his debt.”

King Kairo grinned. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I’m only going to peel the flesh from his back. His chances of survival are very good.” The blade started to cut and Warren stepped forward.

“No.”

The Tyrant straightened, frowning. “No?”

King Aaron quickly spoke up from behind Warren. “He means not yet. We still have business to conclude. Take the Raven back to the rooms Warren.”

Warren cast a glance back at his king, reluctant to leave but not seeing any better way to handle this. He strode forward, grasping Raven to roughly drag the man out from under the soldier’s boot and to his feet. Raven stumbled and staggered ahead of Warren as he was propelled from the dining hall, still weak and trembling with fear.

“Your Highness, please, I must speak with you. Immediately.”

Warren growled at the man. “What were you thinking?! What could possibly be worth showing your face to the man who wants you dead?!”

“That’s what I need to speak with you about! Your Highness, we don’t have time for this! I need to tell you- Warren!”

Warren dragged Raven around a corner, slamming him back against a wall. “Speak!”

“Your king is in danger! There are traitors in your ranks who mean to kill him.” Raven tumbled the words out, ignoring Warren’s fist in his tunic and the harsh look on his face.

Warren’s eyes narrowed, searching the man for a single sign of falsehood. “Who? Why? How do you know this?”

Raven shook his head, desperation creeping into his tone again. “I don’t know who. I heard them talking. I guess they forgot I was there or thought I was asleep. Maybe it was a test. I don’t know! I just knew I had to tell you or I’d-”

Footsteps and voices in the corridor drew their attention. Raven gripped a handful of Warren’s shirt and tugged him in, roughly enough Warren lifted his hands to the wall on either side of Raven’s shoulders, boxing him in with his arms. Raven’s other hand reached up to curl around Warren’s neck and angle them into each other, hiding their faces. Understanding the ruse, Warren pressed them flush together, ignoring the whispers and chuckles as the men passed them by. Listening carefully as Raven hissed in his ear.

“I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could have stopped it,” Raven continued softly. “They’re going to kill King Aaron because King Kairo predicts your king will refuse his deal. They didn’t go into detail, but I can guess the logic. With King Aaron dead, King Kairo will marry you to his daughter and take Princess Ivy for himself. With those two unions, no one will contest him his right to your kingdom.”

Warren felt his blood run cold. Icy steel crept into his voice as burning wrath lit his eyes. “Did they say when they would attack?”

Raven’s hand shook against Warren’s neck, and he went a little limp against the wall. “This morning. That’s why I had to see you immediately.”

“Warren?”

Twisting, Warren knocked aside Raven’s hand from his face to find King Aaron staring at them in concern. He jerked away from Raven, striding towards King Aaron as he pulled his sword from its scabbard. “Don’t move,” he growled.

King Aaron froze, eyes wide and fixed on Warren as the soldier advanced with naked blade and murder in his eyes. He didn’t move a single muscle as Warren reached up, closing a hand around his shoulder and plunging his blade in.


	5. Lust and Love

A breath escaped King Aaron as Warren plunged his blade in to the hilt, blood gushing over his hand. A knife clattered to the floor. Warren tugged King Aaron into himself as he shoved with his blade, putting distance between his king and the would-be assassin. He swept his hand down King Aaron’s back, looking for wounds before pushing him back and away. Inserting himself between King Aaron and the soldier on his blade, Warren bared his teeth as he caught a grip of the soldier’s collar.

“How dare you?”

The quiet demand was met with a pained grunt as a hand closed around Warren’s wrist. Warren jerked his sword free and put it to the man’s throat. Bailey, he recalled.

“Who else is a traitor? Who else dares attempt to take your king’s life?!”

Bailey only grinned. “You may as well kill me. You’re in the middle of a hornet’s nest. King Kairo always gets what he wants. It’s just a matter of how much blood you’re willing to spill for him.”

Warren slit the man’s throat and watched him crumple, cleaning his blade on the edge of the traitor’s tunic. Then a thought occurred, and he rounded on King Aaron. “You didn’t move!”

King Aaron blinked. “You told me not to.”

“You didn’t even put a hand to your sword!”

“I trust you.”

Warren glanced back down the hall once and fixed King Aaron with an incredulous look. “Where are your guards?!”

“I told them to stay with Ivy and Daniel. I didn’t want them left alone while I came to find you.”

“While you turned yourself into excellent bait!” Groaning, Warren started to lift a hand to run it through his hair, then caught sight of the blood and thought better of it. “We’re going to have a serious conversation about your self-preservation later.” King Aaron chuckled. Warren eyed him, taking in the man beneath the crown. The heart beneath the cool head, and more specifically, the only reason King Aaron would be chasing him down immediately instead of waiting to deliver his news.

It all made Warren a little light-headed as he murmured. “You didn’t give me up.”

The king shook his head, sobering again. “I couldn’t.” He cocked his head. “How did you know?” His eyes fell to the dead man on the floor when Warren gestured to him.

“They were ordered to assassinate you if you refused the Tyrant’s deal.” He considered the dead man for a moment, then stooped to grab up a handful of the blood-stained tunic. He headed back down the hall, dragging the body. “This does give me another option, however.”

“Warren?!”

He could hear King Aaron and Raven following him, but he didn’t slow as he stalked back to the dining hall. He slammed through the doors and threw the body ahead of him, sword raising to point at King Kairo. Blades were immediately freed from their sheathes around the room. King Kairo’s men in response to Warren’s obvious threat. King Aaron’s men in confusion as to why Warren had dragged in the dead body of one of their own.

“King Kairo! Call off the men you’ve set on my king or prepare to face me!”

King Kairo sat back in his seat, grinning. “You? Do you really think you can face me in combat? There was a reason you were retired from the battlefield, was there not? That overconfidence will be the death of you, Your Highness.” His tone went mocking as he delivered Warren’s title.

Warren grinned back, his tone just as mocking. “Are you saying you’re afraid to face a broken soldier, Your Majesty?”

The smile faded from King Kairo’s face and he made a gesture. Soldiers, both Iazanian and Viamorean, moved. Two grabbed up Ivy and Daniel as hostages. Others moved on Warren. There were a good dozen, but Warren was already forming battle plans. A blade hissed from its scabbard and King Aaron stepped up even with him, ready to fight as well. Warren tipped his head towards his king.

“Leave the bulk of the fighting to me. I leave Ivy and Daniel to you.”

King Aaron grimly nodded. And then they moved.

Warren cut through anyone who stood between him and King Kairo without mercy. He was aware of some soldiers fighting alongside him, but many were caught with the indecision of who was friend and who was foe. He caught a glimpse of King Aaron cutting his way towards a struggling Ivy, and another flash as Daniel sprinted around the room, using speed and agility learned on the streets to keep anyone foolish enough to chase him busy. Then his attention was fully on King Kairo as the Tyrant King was finally forced to push himself to his feet and draw his sword.

Warren shoved aside the last man standing between him and King Kairo, pushing through his limp with a single-minded focus. His sword locked with King Kairo’s with a crash, jarring them both. King Kairo snarled in Warren’s face. “You should have taken my deal. Tying yourself to a weak king like Aaron will only bring you misery and death.”

Warren growled back. “You mistake kindness for weakness.”

King Kairo shoved hard, forcing Warren back and coming in relentlessly in the wake of his retreat. Warren parried and dodged, watching and waiting for the Tyrant to over-reach. Keeping his guard and mindful of his footing. The Tyrant King spat and hissed. “Kindness is weakness! When you surround yourself with the broken and damaged, you invite destruction and defeat upon yourself.”

Warren parried, then blocked. He saw his mistake just as King Kairo’s fist smashed into his face. He staggered, barely turning aside a thrust before it impaled him and using his wrist to keep another punch from connecting with his ribs. He scored blood against King Kairo’s forearm, hoping to make him drop his sword. The Tyrant King only roared in rage and redoubled his efforts.

A mistake in the mad king’s rush let Warren punch him once and score another line of blood against the king’s side. A clever riposte had Warren’s sword out too wide and he flinched as he didn’t manage to lean back enough to avoid the slash across his chest. The king took advantage of the lean to bare in, pushing Warren further off balance and following it up with a vicious kick to Warren’s damaged knee.

Warren howled as his knee buckled beneath him. Another punch to his jaw had him going over backwards and he barely batted aside a thrust that would have impaled his heart. He looked up at the king, raising his sword to batter Warren into the floor, and bared his teeth in a challenge.

King Kairo suddenly arched with a scream. Warren didn’t waste a second, lurching up to gut the king with his sword. Warm blood splattered him and the king crumpled as Ivy jerked her knife from his side. Warren huffed in relief but didn’t rest just yet. He shoved himself off the floor, wincing when his knee protested the weight he put on it.

Scanning the last of the fighting in the dining hall, Warren pulled a knife from his boot and whipped it across the room. The knife punched through the chest of the man raising his sword against King Aaron’s unguarded back and had him staggering away. He snatched Ivy’s knife from her hand next and aimed as Daniel screamed his name.

Warren hesitated, eyes narrowed and knife ready. The soldier holding Daniel in front of him as a shield with a blade to the boy’s throat backed carefully for the nearest door, hoping for escape. Warren made eye-contact with Daniel in a silent request for trust. Daniel relaxed, giving that trust willingly. Warren let out a slow breath. And threw.

Daniel flinched at the scream as the knife-point went through the man’s eye. But he wasted no time slipping out of the man’s hold and making for Warren and Ivy. Warren looked around the dining hall, littered with over-turned furniture and dead or dying men.

Movement drew his attention and he whipped around, readying his sword once more. The dead king’s eldest daughter tugged the crown from her father’s head, regarding it for a moment. With a deep sigh, she lifted it to place it atop her head. Her eyes took in the blade in Warren’s hand and the deadly focus he had trained on her, but she made no sign of fear.

“You bested him in combat. I have no quarrel with a battle won.”

Warren slowly lowered his sword. “That’s it? No vows of revenge or continued attempts to kill us?”

The young woman shook her head. “His reign was bound to end in blood. There has been too much of it spilled already, so you are free to go. I have a kingdom to put back together. Take what you need to provision your journey home and leave us in peace. I will sanction no further attacks against your kingdom.”

Warren raised a brow, glancing back to find King Aaron. His king gave the new queen a short bow. “We will take our leave tomorrow morning then. Myself and all of my soldiers. If you are in need of assistance in the coming years, I would consider aiding you if you ask it of me.”

The queen curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Your generosity will not be forgotten.”

And then, unmindful of blood or audience, King Aaron stalked up to Warren and wrapped his hand around the back of Warren’s neck to drag him into an embrace. The strength of his arms around Warren’s body and the shuddering breath exhaled over his shoulder betrayed the king’s fear of loss. Warren hugged him back, a silent assurance that he was fine. Then they’re making room to bring Ivy and Daniel in, their odd little family whole and largely unscathed in the end.

Preparations are made for the rest of the day, and they ride from the city of Riverhead early the next morning. The news is spread behind their departure, following them out the gates and dispersing through the city.

The king is dead. Long live the queen!

Despite the queen’s permission, King Aaron isn’t eager to take more than they absolutely need, so Warren ends up sharing his horse with Raven for the return trip. Ivy and her newly acquired slave girl are doubled up as well. The Viamorean soldiers scattered through the city join behind the king’s procession, following him out of Iazane and back to their own country.

Once across the border, the soldiers begin to split off in pairs or groups, heading back home wherever their paths diverge. Celebrations that the war has ended are a nightly affair. Every town and village they go through turns out to cheer and offer whatever they can. King Aaron takes the opportunity to spread Ivy’s planting techniques whenever possible and the trip is as productive as it is eventful.

Warren is plied with so much wine and spirits he’s sure he’ll never be sober again. One of the last villages they ride through before reaching the city of Ravenrock is putting on a festival that they are all invited to, and it isn’t until the dancing begins that Warren remembers it’s Beltane. The massive bonfire illuminates naked bodies writhing in the flickering light and shifting shadows.

The fire god’s fertility rituals are more common in the smaller villages like this, though city folk certainly celebrate the unbridled joys of sexuality, if less publicly. The sight of Raven’s horrified embarrassment sets Warren to laughing, but he helps the man find a quieter corner where the dancing is less obvious. Pipes and drums trip through the air, clearly heard wherever they roam, though the two women harmonizing notes and innuendo fades with the distance.

“What sort of primitive celebration is this?!”

Warren just laughs again, knowing Raven is just dealing with his infringed sense of modesty and not actually intolerant. “Sorry. If I had remembered I would have warned you.”

Raven quickly averts his eyes when a couple runs past them, already aroused and looking for a convenient place to avail themselves. He nervously smoothed his chestnut hair back and retied it into a tail. “Do you have many ‘rituals’ like this?”

“This one is the most blatantly sexual. We missed the first couple fertility celebrations. Those are a little more sedate than this.”

A girl on the cusp of womanhood comes skipping up to them, dressed in flowing red and orange and yellow, offering them apples and gingerbread from a basket she carries. Warren picks out an apple, thanking her. Raven reluctantly takes some gingerbread, inhaling the heady scents of molasses, cinnamon and clove before taking a bite. His apparent appreciation of the taste has the girl laughing as she skips away.

“Don’t worry,” Warren reassures. “Most people can tell if you’re offering or not, and if they come onto you anyways a firm refusal typically does the trick. People don’t often get jumped against their will at these festivals because it’s said the fire god will get angry.”

And just to disprove what he’d just said, they rounded the corner to find themselves face to face with a woman who gave a relieved, “Ah! There you are!” and dragged Warren into a kiss. Her half naked body pressed tightly against his as her hands dropped to cup his arse. Warren made a concerned protest into her mouth, hands going to her bare shoulders with the intention of pushing her away.

“Hey, come on back girly. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

A man staggered after the woman, obviously wanting. He made a disgusted sound when he found his intended quarry pressed up against someone else. Warren put a hand to the hilt of his sword while his other arm pulled the woman in possessively. “Get lost!” The man decided Warren wasn’t one to tangle with and retreated, spewing drunken curses and uncharitable slurs.

Once he was gone, Warren let go of the woman and his sword, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to remove the traces of spit. He jumped when the woman slapped his arse. “Thanks for the rescue handsome. Maybe if you find me later I’ll be willing to give you a dance.” She grinned and turned to leave before giving him a chance to respond, re-covering herself as she went.

Sighing, Warren stooped to retrieve his apple from the grass and brushed it off on his sleeve. He took a bite as he continued on, crunching through the firm skin and licking up the drop of tart juice that escaped.

“You’re a very kind man, Warren.”

Warren glanced at Raven. “Thank you?”

Not quite sure why the compliment had been given, Warren left it alone. Wouldn’t anyone else have done the same?

Their little walk allowed Raven time to adjust and some of the dancers to disappear for a bit. Warren scanned the festivities and spotted King Aaron. He limped his way around the bonfire, Raven close on his heels, until he got to the king. Daniel was settled in the king’s lap, head on his shoulder and fast asleep. Warren grinned.

“Too much excitement?”

Chuckling, King Aaron nodded. “And a little too much wine.”

Warren looked around, searching but not finding. “Where’s Ivy?”

“I believe she and her new maid in waiting found a place to…celebrate.”

“So we won’t see them til morning. Should we put this one to bed?”

King Aaron nodded. “That would probably be best.”

Raven quietly stepped forward. “I could take him for you, if you’d like to stay a bit longer. I’m not really one for this sort of celebration anyways.” King Aaron studied the man, then slowly nodded and transferred his young spouse. Raven carried Daniel towards the inn where they had been given rooms for the night. Warren settled in next to King Aaron and leaned back on one hand, taking another bite of his apple.

Warren swallowed down the bite of fruit and reached for a bit of gingerbread that had been left near the king, leaning across King Aaron with a distinct lack of regard for personal space. He had had enough of distance in Riverhead. King Aaron inhaled, not bothering to retreat. His brow furrowed as Warren pulled away with his prize and he leaned in, chasing Warren’s retreat as he dragged in a breath. Warren raised a brow in question and King Aaron met his eyes.

“Perfume?”

Warren frowned, then he remembered. “Oh. A woman kissed me to discourage an unwanted admirer. It was…involved.”

“Should I be worried about the number of times I’ve found you in compromising positions?” The question was teasing, but Warren shook his head anyways.

“No. Fidelity might not have been in my vows, but it is part of my personal code of honor.” King Aaron hummed in a pleased sort of way and offered Warren his cup of wine. Warren huffed in amusement, shaking his head to decline. “I’ve had so much wine the past few days, I think I’ll start bleeding it soon.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bleed at all actually.”

“Agreed.” Warren sighed, eyes turning upwards to the starry night sky. “I can’t wait to be home. I want to see Caleb and Tessa. I want to soak in the hot springs and sleep in my own bed. I want this whole damnable trip to be through, and then maybe this war will finally feel over to me.”

King Aaron nodded. He took a long draught of his wine, eyes fixed on Warren. Warren let him look, waiting patiently. “Warren?”

“Yes, my king?”

“The war may be over, but you’re not worthless.”

Warren grins, rolling his head towards King Aaron. “Ah. You’ve found something new for me to do then? Personal guard perhaps? Or perhaps you’ll finally get around to asking me into your bed. No. I’ve got it! I shall be a roaming champion! Righting wrongs and rescuing the downtrodden. A knight in shining armor to all the people of the kingdom!” He waved his apple in a grandiose gesture.

King Aaron sighs, expression partially amused and partially exasperated. “I’m serious. You don’t have to fight for me to be worth something to me.”

Warren smiles, leaning in to press his shoulder against the kings. “I know.” He takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, eyes closing. “Thank you. For everything. I wouldn’t have been upset if you had chosen to marry me off to the Tyrant’s daughter, but it means a lot to me that you would refuse to do so.”

They talk until dawn. Warren knows it was only a couple days that they were fighting, but it seemed so much longer, and he feels like he has lost ground to cover. They will be tired for the last stretch to the castle, but the ease of each other’s company is restored and that matters more to him than lost sleep.

There’s a flurry of activity in the morning. Many men have dispersed between the border and the castle. Others are working out traveling groups that will be going further than the castle. All told, there are about thirty men headed to the castle in the morning, while another fifty are scattering beyond. The king and his company get on the road after thanking the village for their hospitality and allowing everyone to join their festival.

They haven’t been on the road to the city more than a few minutes when someone calls from his stirrup. “Hello again handsome. You never came to find me for a dance last night.”

Warren looked down at the woman walking along beside his horse, recognizing the one that had kissed him last night. “No. I’m married.”

She grinned, glancing at Raven riding behind Warren. “Oh. Is this your lovely husband?” Warren shook his head and pointed ahead to King Aaron. The woman blinked in surprise. “I stole a kiss from a Prince. I must be the luckiest girl in the kingdom.” She skipped ahead a bit, calling to King Aaron. “So sorry Your Majesty. It was not my intention to be tempting your husband to infidelity.”

King Aaron cast a look over his shoulder, grinning. “Tempt away my lady, but you won’t be stealing him from me.”

She laughed at that. Warren rolled his eyes and cast a glance back down the road. “Are you alright my lady? No unwanted suitors this morning?”

“No. Thank you for that, again. Your assistance was much appreciated. Actually, I was hoping to accompany you to the city.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “I need a fresh start. A change of occupation. Something I won’t hate myself for every morning when I wake up.”

Raven spoke up from behind Warren. “What sort of job do you hate yourself for every morning?”

“Prostitution.”

Raven choked and Warren bit his lip to kill a smile, quite sure the man was sorry he had asked. The woman didn’t seem concerned, brightening instead.

“Say, perhaps you and His Majesty need a surrogate? Or I’ve been learning midwifing. I feel like we heard tell of a Princess Consort. I can learn whatever someone takes the time to teach me.”

Warren looked up ahead to where King Aaron was casting a considering look over his shoulder. He could already see the man contemplating how he was going to pick up another stray and justify it. “Perhaps,” Warren called, “Caleb could use an apprentice?”

King Aaron grinned. “We could ask him I suppose. What’s your name my lady?”

“Asha, Your Majesty.”

“You are welcome to accompany us then, Asha.”

Asha did indeed follow them all the way back to Ravenrock. She wove her way through the retinue, chatting with whoever she liked with a candor that people either found amusing or scandalous. She was regaling Ivy with tales of some of her more horrifying clientele when Warren pushed his horse to ride alongside King Aaron and gave him an amused look.

“What?”

“You and your bleeding heart for the broken and outcast.”

King Aaron inhaled in mock outrage. “Me?! You’re the one who made the suggestion.”

“Only because I knew you would eventually come up with it on your own. Keep this up and you’re going to run out of room in the consort quarters. We’ve got five now? Only three rooms left.”

King Aaron laughed, largely unconcerned. “I’m still going to put the last two additions on you. Ivy is solely responsible for her new little friend, but I don’t believe lady Corinna will be staying anywhere other than with Ivy.”

“They are rather enamored with each other aren’t they.”

Warren looked over his shoulder at Raven when the man spoke. “Five? I thought it was just you, Ivy and Daniel.”

Warren nodded. “Officially. But we’ve also got you, and now Asha apparently.”

“Me?”

King Aaron raised a brow, smiling sympathetically. “You thought we would do nothing to protect you? In all likelihood, I’ll have to make you official too, Raven Elias. You’re a lone Iazanian in a land that was hostile to your people until quite recently. Even if you’re a clergyman, there will be those who would do you harm.”

Warren grimaced, remembering his own less than comfortable interactions. “Best stick close to me for a while, Raven, til everyone’s gotten a chance to get used to your presence. No one will bother you in the consort quarters, but if you want to be out and about the castle, it would be better if you were in the company of a fellow consort.”

Raven looked like he had further protests. King Aaron reassured him. “Not to worry Raven Elias. The title of consort is in name only. Although I may call on you should I need advice on crafting good relations with the new queen. You know your country’s customs better than anyone else I could ask. I expect nothing you wouldn’t be comfortable giving, though. Same as with the rest of my little band of outcasts.” He said the last with a fond smile at Warren and a quick glance towards Ivy and Daniel.

“Outcasts. So you aren’t of noble birth?”

Warren laughed, shaking his head. “I’m as common as they come. I’m just good on a battlefield. Or was, until my injuries. Ivy was persecuted for demoncraft when she came our way. And Daniel was to be executed as a thief. Seems almost appropriate we should pick up a disgraced priest and a prostitute.”

“Former prostitute!” Asha called at them.

Warren and King Aaron laughed.

Their arrival at the castle was even more boisterous than the King’s homecoming after Warren’s last battle. Celebrations were already well underway, and Warren suspected the party would easily last for a week. His priorities were elsewhere.

They rode in the castle gates and Warren scanned the courtyard for Caleb and Tessa. He grinned when he spotted both, swinging himself off his horse to push through to them. Caleb dragged him into a tight hug first. Tessa gave him a kiss to either cheek before hugging him herself. A tumble of questions and assurances and joyful relief flowed between them as they talked over each other. A squeal of excitement preceded Ivy smothering Tessa in a hug and then the two were chattering at high speed. Caleb grinned as King Aaron strode over to crush him in a bear hug. Tessa pulled Daniel into a hug and kissed his cheeks, and the boy grinned when Caleb ruffled his hair.

Corinna, Raven, and Asha were all introduced and welcomed in with ease.

King Aaron squeezed Caleb’s shoulder to pull his attention and smiled. “Could you and Tessa get everyone settled in? I believe the council would like an accounting of my trip and then we’ll all meet up at the feast for dinner. Thank you, my friend.”

Caleb led the way into the castle, with a trail of misfits behind him. Warren smiled as he watched them go, then turned to trail after King Aaron. The king ushered his councilmen towards the meeting rooms, doing a double take when he realized Warren was still hovering. He smiled and offered his arm. Warren took it as they went to recount the trip into Iazane and everything that had happened there.

Warren was pleasantly surprised at the number of council members who complimented him on his decision to kill the Tyrant King.

They seemed evenly split on whether or not the new queen would be any better than her father, but King Aaron had hope she would be better for her kingdom. Only time would tell. Until then, King Aaron said, they would hope for the best and take measures to prepare for the worst. It was time to focus on prosperity and rebuilding.

By the time they wrapped up their meeting, the banquet hall was buzzing with people eating and drinking. Music seemed to reach every corner of the castle. King Aaron took Warren back to his quarters to change, then Warren accompanied King Aaron to his own rooms for the same. When they arrived at the banquet hall, arm in arm, there was a call to hail the king and prince consort. The call was answered with exuberant cheers and applause.

Warren abstained from wine, for the simple pleasure of watching everyone in the castle getting sloshed. He managed a dance with the king and another with Ivy. He fended off flirtatious advances from Daniel and Asha. And he spent time talking with Caleb and Raven into the small hours of the morning.

Warm hands sliding over his shoulders caught his attention fully away from Caleb recounting a little old woman who thought three sneezes were an omen of Death. Thumbs dug into the back of his nape in a firm sliding pressure, dragging a groan from his throat as his eyes closed. A beard tickled the edge of his jaw as the king’s low voice filled his ear.

“You said something about visiting the hot spring.”

Warren nodded eagerly and took his leave. They took an unhurried pace down to the baths and Warren couldn’t help the moan of pleasure as he slipped into the hot water.

“Oh, it’s even better than I remember.” King Aaron laughed at him but Warren really didn’t care. They soaked in silence, shoulder to shoulder, until a voice pulled him out of the blissful haze.

“Ah. I should have known you two would be here.”

Warren didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Hello Ivy.”

“Hello Warren. Room for a few more?”

Warren cracked one eye open and raised a brow. Ivy didn’t wait for an answer, sliding into the water and pulling Corinna into her side. Daniel splashed his way in and sloshed over to sit next to Warren. Raven and Asha’s presence was a bit of a surprise, but he supposed he was going to end up getting comfortable with their inclusion here shortly anyways. He closed his eye again and relaxed, letting the soft conversation flow around him.

This wasn’t at all where he had seen his life going, but he couldn’t say he was disappointed. Not at all.

Some sense of normalcy slowly began to reinsert itself. King Aaron decided they just wouldn’t fit in his quarters for breakfast anymore, so he joined them in the consort quarters. Asha was typically loud and exuberant where Raven was often quiet and subdued, balancing each other out. The former slave girl Corinna slowly adjusted to life as a free woman but could almost always be found with Ivy. The two were quite fond of each other. To the point where Warren was sure they had been ensnared by love at first sight.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Asha at first. The flirting with Raven was teasing because she liked how flustered he got. She seemed to have the utmost respect for Ivy while Daniel was treated with the care and affection of a younger sibling. It was her attitude towards himself that really confused him. Most of the time she was simply friendly and interested in getting to know him. Other times, she was an aggressive flirt. The occasion she had climbed into his lap out of nowhere and proceeded to push her tongue down his throat was as unappreciated as it was startling, but when he had stood and dumped her to the floor with a curt order not to do it again, she had only seemed pleased.

It was getting to the point he was going to have to sit her down and lay down some rules.

“Still mad at me?”

Warren looked up from the book he had been fighting his way through, eyeing Asha. “That depends. Are you going to try something like that again?”

She smiled sheepishly as she pushed blonde strands out of her face. “Sorry.”

He noticed that wasn’t an answer, but he took the apology where he could get it.

“Everyone is going down to the baths later. Are you coming?”

Warren shrugged. “Probably.” She grinned and promised to bring wine before skipping away. Warren shook his head and dropped his eyes back into his book. He got the distinct impression she was plotting something, but what she had planned remained to be seen.

He was the last to arrive at the baths later that night. Ivy and Corinna were off to one side, lounged out and talking quietly, present but private. Daniel was listening with rapt attention as Raven described the tattooing process that had gone into his wings. Asha grinned when she saw him and beckoned him over, offering him a glass of wine. He slid into the water and accepted, noting the empty bottle and half-filled cups near everyone. Two full bottles suggested there was plenty to make sure everyone got enough.

Asha hummed, fingers brushing through his hair in contemplation. “You’ve got such pretty honey-brown hair, but it’s all a mess. When was the last time you got it cut?”

Warren swallowed down some wine, shrugging. “Not since most of it burned off.”

“Can I even it up for you?”

The request seemed innocent enough, so Warren nodded. Asha grinned and hopped out of the water, soon returning with a comb and some scissors. She sat down behind him and slipped a small towel around his shoulders to catch the stray clippings. Warren relaxed as she went to work with no apparent ulterior motives.

“I can’t figure you out Warren.”

Warren huffed a laugh. “Well I can’t figure you out either so that makes us even.”

Asha hummed. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“Finding love of course.”

Warren raised a brow at that, taking another sip of his wine. “Have I lost it?”

Daniel called across the pool, leaving Raven to glide through the water. “Warren has already been in love. Haven’t you? You told me you would tell me about her someday. Does that mean you lost her?” The boy placed his hands atop Warren’s knees, blue eyes searching.

“Yes. She got sick. We had just started a life together and didn’t have much, but we were happy. When the sickness got into her lungs we did what we could but…” Warren shrugged. “After she was gone, I couldn’t stay there where everything reminded me of her. I joined up with the army. I think a part of me wanted to die, so I could be with her again. But when I was lying on that battlefield in the mud, broken and burned and bleeding… I’ve never been more afraid of dying than I was right then.”

Daniel moved to sit next to Warren, eyes flicking up to watch what Asha was doing. “But then King Aaron found you. And brought you to live here, right? Did you want to die again, after coming here?”

Warren managed a smile. “No. I don’t want to die now.”

“Is that the problem then?” Asha asked. “You only like girls and are therefore oblivious to the one madly in love with you?”

Warren grimaced. “I know King Aaron is in love with me.”

“Oh!” Asha sounded delighted as she checked the length of his hair one last time and pulled away the towel. “That’s perfect then. Come. Sit up here.”

Warren frowned at her, confused as she urged him out of the water. He watched her pour a little oil in her palm and she began working it into his skin. “Why is that perfect?” The heat of the bath and the soothing slide of her palms spreading the oil was making him short of breath. He didn’t think to argue when she had him lay back next to the basin, resting his head in Daniel’s lap while she worked the oils down his legs.

“It’s perfect because here I thought you were going to need a much harder push than you actually need.” She gave him a refilled glass of wine, added more oil to her hands, and expertly began loosening the muscles in his damaged leg. “All you really need is some liquid courage, a little grooming, and some preparation.”

Warren yelped when Asha’s fingers delved between his legs. Daniel made an outraged snarl. The slick slide inside of him just brought everything back and Warren screamed, kicking and scrambling over Daniel.

“No! Stop it! Don’t touch me. No! Get away from me!”

His mad retreat halted as Ivy caught him and Daniel started screaming in his defense. Ivy whispered soothing nothings in his ear. “It’s okay Warren. You’re okay. It’s alright.”

Panting, Warren forced himself to focus. Asha was thoroughly cowed by Daniel’s protective scolding and threatening. Raven was looking a little pale, standing in the water and not quite sure how to help. Once Warren was breathing easier, Ivy started in on Asha too.

“I told you not to push! I made it perfectly clear they were going at their own pace and to leave them be. What in all the gods names did you think you were doing?!”

Asha bit her lip, drawing in on herself. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t know he would- I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

Warren took in a couple deep breaths. He slid his fingers through his hair and hesitated at the new length. “Ivy. Daniel. Calm down. Just calm down and give me a minute.” Everyone went quiet and he managed to calm to the point he was no longer shaking. “I understand you want to help, Asha. But this is a little more complicated than can be fixed with a haircut and a glass of wine.”

Asha quietly apologized again.

Warren’s gaze caught on the oil glistening on his skin and he scrubbed a hand over his arm. The blood was rushing in his head and his fingers tingled. He groaned. “You slipped me an aphrodisiac too, didn’t you.”

Ivy fumed, looking very much ready to strangle Asha. “Any other tricks you pulled we should know about?”

Asha meekly shook her head. “I was just going to help stretch him out and talk him into going to see His Majesty.”

Warren grimaced, brows drawing together in question. “Stretch me out?”

Daniel quietly supplied, “if you use your fingers first, to get used to the penetration, it feels a lot better. If you do it right you can avoid pain altogether.”

Nodding in understanding, Warren leaned his elbows on his bent knees. He had fought beside men who lay with other men, but he had never asked them for details. Mainly because he wasn’t the sort to share his own stories. He cast a glance around at everyone staring at him before dropping his eyes back to the floor. “Does it really bother you that much that I’ve never responded to King Aaron’s feelings?”

There was a silence for a long moment. Ivy finally sighed and spoke. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I think it’s a little cruel to let him pine for you if you never intend to reciprocate. Especially if you know exactly how he feels.”

Warren winced. It hadn’t been his intention to be cruel, but now that Ivy had said it he could see what she meant. He supposed he had assumed the king’s feelings for him would fade, especially after Ivy and Daniel had joined them. King Aaron had been doggedly faithful, however. Affectionate with his other consorts, certainly. But the butterfly kisses to the lips and flirtations had always only been for Warren.

“Warren?” He looked up at Ivy. “We all know how he feels about you. How do you feel about him?”

He kept his silence, unsure of what to say. When he did manage to speak, he was sure it wasn’t at all what they wanted to hear. “Can’t one of you just seduce him away from me?”

Ivy glared at him, chiding. “Warren! No, we can’t. You deserve love too, you know. And you could do a lot worse than a kind king that’s absolutely smitten with you.”

“Fine. Help me stretch out.”

There was a distinctly uncomfortable reaction to his words. “You don’t have to-”

Warren shook his head. “No. You’re right. I should talk to him about this and there’s no time like the present. If things go that far I would rather be prepared than not at all so you may as well finish what Asha was doing.” He got to his feet and moved over to one of the lounges, leaning back and setting a foot up to spread his thighs open.

There was a brief round of considering glances shared among the others. When they came to a decision Asha moved over to settle between Warren’s feet. Daniel crawled up onto the lounge and snuggled into Warren’s side, a supportive presence. Ivy brought over more oil.

Warren leaned his head back and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to relax. This would all be fine. He flinched a little when Asha’s fingers brushed between his cheeks, spreading copious amounts of oil. There was a little resistance as she pushed, and then her finger slid into his body.

She easily slid in and out, adding plenty of oil to smooth the way. Warren jumped when she pressed up against his inner walls, adding a new sensation to the sliding. Just when Warren thought it wasn’t so bad, Asha slid a second finger in beside the first.

Now he felt the stretch.

She maintained an easy pace, letting him adjust and being careful. When she withdrew, she added more oil and slid back in easily. Warren bit his lip. It wasn’t ‘good’ but it also wasn’t bad. Asha pushed and stretched and pressed up against his walls until he was comfortable with the intrusion. When she reached for something and held it up to show him, Warren eyed it distrustfully.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I insert it into you and it keeps you open. Then when you’re ready, you pull it out and you’re still loose so it won’t hurt.”

It wasn’t especially big. Tapered at one end, flaring out with a neck and a base so it would stay put once in. Smooth and polished.

Warren glanced at Daniel and got an encouraging smile, so he braced himself and nodded. Asha gently slid it in. The sensation was foreign, and not altogether pleasant, but it was manageable. Warren got to his feet, taking a moment to adjust. He felt warm and flushed all over. An incredibly large portion of his attention was focused on his arse and what was inside it. Pouring himself a large glass of wine, he drank it all down and found a robe.

“Wish me luck,” he said as he tugged the robe around himself and tied it shut. He got some well wishes and smiles back. Then he padded barefoot out of the baths and through the corridors. He felt nervous, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what the kings answer would be.

Maybe he just didn’t know what his own answer would be. Or rather, what he would be able to go through with once that answer had been given.

He moved with a false confidence up to the king’s doors, expecting to have to wait while he was announced. The guards took one look at him, smiled, and let him in without a word. King Aaron looked up in surprise when Warren entered, getting to his feet with something like alarm. Warren could feel King Aaron’s eyes trailing down and back up, and see the flush coloring his face in the low firelight.

“Warren! Is something wrong?”

Warren shook his head, crossing the room and rounding the couch. “I wanted to talk.”

King Aaron swallowed. “Of course. About what? Would you like to sit?”

The king seemed confused at the dubious look Warren turned on the couch. Then again, he was probably confused about everything about the soldier’s presence and appearance. Warren stepped over and gingerly sat down.

“You’ve had your hair cut. It looks good.”

A compulsive move sent Warren’s fingers through his hair before he was clenching his hands in his lap. “Thank you. Asha did it for me.” He took in a shaky breath, not quite sure where to start. Finally, he found a place. “It has come to my attention that I owe you an apology.”

King Aaron blinked in surprise. “For what?”

“I’ve been ignoring your feelings for me, and that’s a cruel thing to do. Especially after you’ve been so kind to me. So, I’m sorry.”

The king went still, eyes searching. “You’re sorry. For ignoring my feelings?”

Warren nodded. “I should have talked to you about this much earlier, when I first realized how you felt. But I ignored it, half hoping it would all just fade away and we could forget about it. But I don’t think you’re going to change your mind. So the right thing to do would be acknowledge it and deal with it.”

King Aaron let out a shaky exhale, something like desperation entering his voice. “I can stop. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable and I swear I never meant for you to feel like you had to confront me about this. I- I don’t know that I can just change how I feel overnight but I can try not to push my feelings on you anymore so…”

He trailed off, staring at Warren’s incredulous expression. Warren cocked his head. “Do you want to change how you feel about me?”

King Aaron set his jaw. “No. No, I don’t. I know I told you I’d never expect anything you didn’t want to give, and that’s still true, but Warren, I love you.”

“Well I should fucking hope so or else I’ve been drugged, groomed, oiled, prepared, and stuffed for nothing.”

A rapid tumble of emotions went across King Aaron’s face as he processed that statement, sputtering. “Drugged?! Prepared and stuffed? Warren, what-?!” He cut off and went silent, jaw slack and eyes wide as Warren got up and let the robe fall away to puddle at his feet. The flickering firelight danced across the oil on his skin and it was quite clear King Aaron liked what he saw.

The strangled curse that finally escaped him was almost as gratifying as the obvious appreciation. As the ease and lack of flinching as those warm brown eyes swallowed up in black flowed over his scars. As the immediate shift as he realized what he was doing and brought his gaze back up to Warren’s eyes to make sure he was at ease.

“You’re- Warren are you-? Gods, Warren you’re trying to kill me aren’t you.”

Warren smiled and watched King Aaron shiver. “Not a bad way to go is it?”

“Only if you feel the same way.” He made a concentrated effort to keep his eyes on Warren’s, determined to make this clear. “I love you Warren. And nothing would make me happier than taking what you seem to be offering, but if you’re only giving me this because you know I want it… Or if this isn’t what you really want, or it’s too fast or…”

King Aaron choked when Warren stepped closer. He leaned back on the couch as Warren moved in to stand in front of King Aaron, bare toes touching boot tips. “I’m…a little nervous about the sex, if I’m being honest. But I know I love you too. I have loved you for a while. First as my king. Then as a friend. And when you refused to trade my life for an end to the war, I realized… The relief I felt wasn’t just because I wasn’t going to be left in a foreign country as a political hostage. It was because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

The breath of relief that escaped the king brought a smile to Warren’s lips.

“I love you, my king.” Warren bit his lip as he considered, then shook his head. “I love you, my husband.” The shining smile that threatened to split King Aaron’s face in two was a beautiful sight. Warren chuckled. “Now whether we’re going to consummate this marriage or not, would you mind getting this thing out of me?” Warren turned his back and watched King Aaron’s gaze fall to the base of the plug filling his arse.

King Aaron made a strangled noise. “Gods, Warren.” A warm hand covered his hip and he could feel a light tug on the plug. Both the king’s hands gripped his hips when Warren’s knees threatened to give out from under him. “Do you want to have sex? We don’t have to until you’re ready. Even if you’re never ready, that’s fine too.”

Warren cast a look over his shoulder. “I trust you.”

King Aaron got to his feet, his clothed front pressing tight to Warren’s naked back as he pressed a kiss to Warren’s shoulder. “You have to tell me, if you don’t want me to do something.” Warren nodded in agreement. King Aaron trailed kisses across his shoulder and up his throat, beard tickling as he pressed in under Warren’s jaw.

“King Aaron?”

He hummed in response, still not moving much from the soft kisses at Warren’s throat or the firm grip around his hips. “No need to rush. I’ve wanted to be free to kiss and touch you for some time. So now that I’ve got permission, I intend to savor you if that’s alright.”

Warren shivered. “That-” He cleared his throat and tried again. “That sounds fine. But maybe we could sit?”

King Aaron nodded. “Here or in the bedroom?”

“How far do you plan to take this?”

“As far as you’ll let me.”

“Bedroom then,” Warren breathed. King Aaron moaned like he had reached completion already. He spun Warren around, wrapping one arm around his back and the other guiding a leg up to hook over his hip as he lifted. Warren muttered, even as he wrapped his arms and legs around the king to let himself be picked up and carried. “I’m heavy.”

“Not to me.”

King Aaron gently settled Warren on the edge of the bed. He tipped Warren’s head back with a hand against his jaw, slowly leaning in. Warren closed his eyes, savoring the press of lips against his. The kiss was soft and chaste. Then longer and languid. King Aaron pressed his lips to Warren’s jaw and throat again before whispering. “Lay back. I’ll pull that thing out of you.”

Warren reached up, fingers clenching in King Aaron’s shirt. “Get undressed first.”

He nodded and easily complied. Warren helped with whatever he could reach, sitting on the bed with the king between his knees. Warren’s eyes roved across a body he had already seen naked but never really looked at before. Suddenly, he understood how the king had felt when he had dropped his robe in the other room. There was a severe difference between stripping down for communal bathing and getting undressed for intimacy.

Once King Aaron had dropped the last of his clothes to the floor, he bent to slip a hand beneath the back of Warren’s knee. He lifted and held Warren’s knee to his thigh as Warren lay back across the bed. The backs of his fingers trailed up the inside of Warren’s thigh, letting the soldier know exactly where the king’s hands were. His breath hitched when a finger slid along the crease of his leg, and then the king had grasped the base of the plug.

Warren let his head fall back to the bed, eyes closing and whimpering when the king tugged and let go. Tugged and let go. “You’re just gonna tease me all night, aren’t you?” His eyes opened and he flushed at that wolfish grin.

“I’m gonna _worship_ you.” And he eased the plug out. Warren whined. The king let out a shaky breath. “Gods Warren. You’re beautiful.” He must have made some expression of disbelief because King Aaron fixed him with a firm look. “You are.”

Warren watched King Aaron consider for a moment and cocked his head. “What is it?”

“I’m not putting you on your knees. It’ll probably start to hurt too soon.” His fingers gently tapped Warren’s damaged knee. “Does your hip hurt often? I’d rather be face to face but if that’s going to hurt too then…”

Warren pushed up onto one elbow to grasp at King Aaron’s shoulder and tug him in. “Face to face is good. I don’t want to be on my front.”

King Aaron nodded and let himself be pulled down, leaning over Warren to box him in with his arms, pressed between the soldier’s knees. Soft kisses turned harder. There was some flailing and scrambling as King Aaron urged Warren up and back against the pillows instead of sprawled across the bed, but the ungraceful progress only brought laughter. The mirth quickly faded as King Aaron set about making good on his promise to worship Warren.

He ringed Warren’s throat in kisses and mouthed across his shoulders. Warm hands mapped his sides and waist while a hot tongue blazed trails down his chest. Warren bucked against the firm grip around his hips when King Aaron dipped his tongue into Warren’s navel. His beard tickled down Warren’s belly and he shivered when Warren groaned.

Chest heaving as he gasped for air, Warren lifted his head to watch as King Aaron peppered kisses along the V to his groin. Hooded brown eyes flicked up to meet his wide-eyed gaze as the king’s tongue slipped out to graze across the tip of his manhood. Warren whined. And the sight of the king opening his mouth, followed by a wet heat engulfing him, had him throwing his head back with a hand tight over his mouth. He arched as King Aaron took him all the way down to the root, nose buried in curls and beard brushing his testicles.

The tortured wail escaped past his hand, but his reaching fingers laced with King Aaron’s tightly to ground him. He heaved for breath as King Aaron pulled off with a light pop. His head swam, but King Aaron’s slow trail of kisses down the inside of one leg gave him a chance to regain focus. Though the sight of King Aaron pressing a kiss to the top of his foot did funny things to his head and heart.

Another kiss was pressed to the top of his other foot and the return trip was made up his other leg. King Aaron grinned, lifting Warren’s leg to hook over his shoulder as he pressed a kiss to the inside of his knee. “Would you like me to continue using my mouth?”

“Now _you’re_ trying to kill _me_.”

“Not a bad way to go, is it?”

Warren snorted. “No. Not a bad way at all.” He cocked his head, grin faltering. “Do you get anything out of doing it that way?”

“Everything I could possibly want.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

“You’re only just now noticing?”

Warren chuckled. He rolled his hips, watching King Aaron’s gaze fall downwards immediately. “Fill me up before I lose my nerve.” He took in a deep breath as King Aaron trailed his fingers through the copious amounts of oil Asha had used. That breath stuck in his lungs when fingers slipped inside of him. But he was still loose. Still relaxed and ready to receive the king inside him. King Aaron withdrew his fingers and shuffled in close, lining up and looking directly at Warren as he leaned into the leg propped over his shoulder.

“If this hurts, you stop me.”

Warren nodded. The initial penetration made him flinch, but it was just the odd sensation of being breached. The slow slide in didn’t hurt. By the time King Aaron was buried to the hilt, all Warren felt was full. King Aaron paused there, deep inside and unmoving as he watched Warren’s face and the heaving of his chest.

“Alright?”

“Mmhm.” His voice was an octave higher than usual. He didn’t think he was quite able to make words, but King Aaron was starting to look like he was going to retreat. Warren wrapped his heel around King Aaron’s thigh and tugged. “Move. Slow.”

King Aaron nodded, slowly pulling back and gently pushing back in. Warren planted his foot again, looking for a little more stability as King Aaron thrust. He experimentally rocked just as King Aaron thrust and the joining hit something that made Warren’s toes curl. The punched out sound he made got a smile out of King Aaron, and the king angled in again, sliding slow and firm over that spot once more.

“Ah!”

“Good?”

“Mm! Good. Ah! Uh! Aaron!”

“Yes, love?”

“More!”

Warren grit his teeth as King Aaron unhooked Warren’s knee and dropped it around his waist instead, shuffling in a little closer and lifting Warren’s hips to drape his thighs over the kings. Warren curled his fingers around the king’s wrists as the pace picked up. The snap of King Aaron’s hips pressed into that spot inside of him, dragging bitten off cries and unintelligible words from his lips. It wasn’t until he caught sight of that wolfish smile again that he actually listened to himself.

“Ah! Aaron! Oh, gods Aaron! Uh. Mm. Please. Aaron!”

“Want more?”

Warren dropped his head back, not sure what that meant. “More what? More how?!” He got his answer when the kings warm hand closed around his cock and gently squeezed. “Oh! Yes!” He whined when Aaron stopped instead.

“Is your leg hurting?”

Warren opened his eyes, looking down his own shuddering body to his king. He had been ignoring the minor discomfort, but now that Aaron mentioned it. “A bit.”

Aaron nodded. “Here. Roll onto your side.” He slipped out and prompted Warren over, putting his damaged leg down where it would just have to be a base and his good leg on top where he could shift it for stability. Aaron lay down behind him, spooning in close, pressing in tight and then all the way back inside. Warren hummed in pleasure.

“Better?”

Warren nodded. “This is why I love you.”

Aaron chuckled and reached over Warren’s hip, hand sliding between his legs to stroke at his cock. The thrusts didn’t have nearly the same power, but the heavy breathing and soft kisses against the back of Warren’s neck suggested the position was still effective. Warren found himself rocking, up into Aaron’s hand and back onto his cock, chasing his completion.

“I love you Warren.” Aaron’s whisper feathered across his skin. He was starting to lose coordination, drawing close to orgasm himself. “I love you so much. I love the way you protect me and the others. I love the way you fight with all of your being. I love your trust. I love every single inch of you.”

Warren whimpered, turning his face into the pillow. “Aaron. Please.” Wet, open mouthed kisses went trailing down his spine. A scrape of teeth against his shoulder. And then a shuddering breath exhaled across his back as Aaron’s hips strained against his. Aaron’s hand quickened around his manhood, dragging him to completion right behind.

They both breathed heavily in the afterward for a long moment, heartbeats slowing and skin cooling. Warren hissed as Aaron slipped free, then let himself be tugged onto his back. He continued to roll when Aaron reached for his lips, pressing close and matching the heated slide of tongue. Aaron’s fingers slipped up his arm and across his shoulder, sliding over his neck to curl around his nape. Fingers carded through shortened hair as a thumb caressed Warren’s jaw. Warren gasped as Aaron’s lips continued seeking across his flesh.

“Are you not satisfied?”

Aaron hummed, moving up and across him, one thigh pressing between Warren’s. “You are incredibly satisfying. So much so I don’t imagine I’ll ever be able to get enough.” Warren’s breath caught at the touch on oversensitive flesh.

“It was after that infection, wasn’t it. When your interest in me became love?”

Aaron raised his head from kissing along the edges of Warren’s burns along his shoulder. His brown eyes met Warren’s. Fingertips trailed softly down the side of his face. “Yes. I was so scared. Terrified of losing you. More so than I’ve ever been to lose anyone. You asked me not to let you go, and I could think of no greater vow I would rather make. You invited me into your bed to comfort me and promised we would be fine, and I didn’t doubt you for a second.”

Warren reached up, hand cupping Aaron’s face. The king turned into the touch, pressing a kiss to the flare of his wrist. Then a couple more against his pulse. And then he was utterly distracted kissing and mouthing against the soft skin of Warren’s inner arm, tracing blood vessels with his tongue and tasting the salt of his sweat.

“I didn’t want to admit it.” The soft confession drew the king’s eyes up to Warren’s. “I was pretty sure you loved me then, but I just wanted you to be my friend. I didn’t want either of us to fall too far and then face the hurt if it didn’t work out. I didn’t understand what you saw in me, so I preferred to just pretend we were nothing more than friends.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “And after I was raped…”

Aaron gently brushed away the tears that spilled when Warren blinked.

Warren forced the words out. “I didn’t want Caleb to tell you. I wanted to hide it, because I was so ashamed. I felt like I had spoiled whatever it was you had seen in me. I was so scared you would find out and that would be it. You would never want anything to do with me again. You would gently push me away and that would hurt all the more. I was breaking apart, and all I could think was how cruel it all was that even the possibility of something between us had been stolen from me.”

Aaron reached up, covering Warren’s body with his own and leaning in for a kiss. Warren slid his fingers through Aaron’s hair, tugging him in tightly. Frantically. Desperately. Aaron wrapped him up tight in return, a warm steady embrace that would not be broken.

“I love you Warren. Nothing and no one will change that. And I’ll remind you as often as you need. You’re not broken or damaged to me. You’re perfect. Because you’re you.”

And Warren thought he could actually believe that.

Aaron made absolutely certain Warren felt cherished before the night was through. He fell asleep, exhausted, cared for, shaky from the overwhelming bliss. He felt utterly owned, and he loved it. When the soft light of morning woke him up, he smiled at the feel of Aaron pressed tightly against his back.

His careful attempts to slide out of the king’s arms only resulted in a dissatisfied grumble and a tightening of the arm around his waist. Chuckling, he changed tactics, wiggling around until they were face to face so he could press kisses against Aaron’s face and wake him. Aaron hummed in sleepy contentment, smile pulling at his lips as he chased the feel of Warren’s mouth.

Eyes turned golden in the light slowly opened. “Morning Warren.”

“Morning, King Aaron.”

He sighed, wincing a little. “Ugh. The title is back.” The soft smile that came after reassured that the complaint was only in teasing.

Warren licked his lips, watching those warm golden eyes fall down to his mouth. He whispered into the scant space between them. “Aaron.”

The king’s eyes lifted to meet Warren’s gaze, pupils expanding and lids heavy. His lips parted around a soft exhale. Warren thought Aaron might melt into a puddle. And just at the sound of his own name, spoken as an equal.

The bedroom tone might have had a little something to do with it too.

Aaron slowly grinned, leaning in to claim a kiss. “Gods, Warren. Keep this up and I’ll be forced to hold you prisoner in my bed for the rest of the week.”

“Not the worst place I’ve been held prisoner.”

The comment cooled the bedroom eyes, though that hadn’t been Warren’s intention. Warm fingers carded through his hair before sliding down to curve around the back of his neck. Aaron leaned in again, pressing their foreheads together. “Oh, love. You’ve endured so much. I don’t want to put you through anything else, so if I do or say something insensitive, just slap me or something.”

Warren chuckled. The sound had Aaron relaxing away from his self-deprecation. He trailed a fingertip down the center of Aaron’s chest, feather light. “I don’t think I could ever lay a hand on you like that.” Aaron’s breath caught as Warren’s touch skimmed over his abdominals. “How about I just insist you make it up to me, in whichever ways I like.” His hand reached its final destination, cupping firmly and dragging a whine from Aaron’s throat.

“Mm! Gods, yes, Warren. Anything you want.”

“Breakfast.” Warren laughed at the disappointed groan that request received but Aaron followed easily enough as Warren rolled out of bed. He borrowed tunic and breeches from Aaron, since all he had arrived in last night was a robe, and they moved to the consort quarters for breakfast.

Asha looked quite smug when they appeared, until Ivy informed her Warren had spent their wedding night with Aaron. The fact seemed to confuse her, and Warren wasn’t about to clear anything up for her. What he got up to in the bedroom was between him and whoever he was sharing his bed with. Aaron’s easy smiles and tender touches were nothing out of the ordinary either, so no one could really tell what they had gotten up to last night. Just that the two of them were in a good mood.

And for most of the consorts, if not all, that was more than enough.

As spring wore into summer, things progressed easily. In public, Warren and King Aaron shared the same sort of relationship they always had. In private, Warren and Aaron were exploring something that was entirely new to Warren, but Aaron made it so very enjoyable to learn. Aaron’s other consorts were not forgotten, no matter the distracting novelty of Warren. He arranged for a trip to the coast for the tail end of summer, energetically planning the honeymoon that had been postponed.

The trip out to the sea-side manor was easy enough, with only a few guards along for protection. All of them easily deferred to Warren, though he certainly hadn’t asked to be put in charge. He knew it wasn’t all because of his title either. Word of what he had done inside the border of Iazane and at Riverhead had spread, and it seemed most soldiers were willing to let that experience speak for Warren’s abilities.

The manor was gorgeous and set on a hill just above the shore. Daniel took one look at the vast waters and grabbed Aaron’s hand, tugging him along as he called for Ivy to hurry. Ivy pretended annoyance at the exuberance, but she hurried all the same. Raven took a moment to stare in wonder before following. Asha claimed she wanted a nap and she would play in the water later.

Warren headed around the house, curious at the garden he could see. The plot with vegetables and herbs growing was a common enough sight. Beyond that was a leafy tunnel, built up with vines. Warren moved through the living tunnel and halted at the other end. The garden here was purely for pleasure.

Flowers of all sorts had been carefully laid out and tended to, creating a wonder for sight and scent. The blooms were protected by a living fence, carefully woven out of blackberry brambles. Across the flower garden was a gate that appeared to open out into an orchard. Warren recognized apples, plums, and what he was fairly certain was a cherry tree. There were others he didn’t know as well.

“Come to help?”

The voice startled him, and he turned to look at the woman rounding a towering statue lost under morning glories. She was dark haired, with silver at the temples. Crows feet and laugh lines showed on her face, but she was no less beautiful for it. She held herself with a distinguished air, despite the dirty apron and gloves. Smudges of dirt showed where she had brushed away her hair or wiped away sweat. Her tan suggested she spent a good deal of time out in the sun.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone out here.”

The woman smiled at him. She put aside the basket she had been collecting weeds in and stripped off her gloves. “No harm done. You must be the Prince Consort I’ve been hearing about.”

Warren blinked in surprise. “One of them. You know me?”

She chuckled, stepping into the shade of the tunnel with him. “Burn scars and a limp are fairly good indicators. Though I must say, the damage has been overstated, Your Highness. And you’re no less handsome for it.”

Warren flushed a little, not sure what to do with the information that such specific gossip about him was so wide-spread or the easy compliment. “You can just call me Warren. What should I call you?”

The woman smiled. “Call me Evelyn then.” She held out a hand. Warren politely bowed to kiss the back of it. She looked amused when he rose again.

“Is this your garden, Evelyn? It’s beautiful.”

She beamed at him. “I don’t do all the work, certainly, but it was absolutely one of my finer projects. I’m afraid you missed my favorite part.” She gestured behind them into the tunnel. “When the wisteria is all in bloom in the tunnel, it’s really a sight to behold. But it’s the smell of it that pleases me to no end. Perhaps you’ll come back in the spring to see it?”

“Perhaps. I didn’t even know this place was here until King Aaron brought us.”

She hummed. “And how is King Aaron? I hope he treats you well.”

Warren quickly nodded. “Very well. More than I could ever hope to repay. He seems happy, though, which is all I care about. That and his safety of course. I suppose, if all it takes to please him is to be by his side, I can give him that easily enough.”

“The sharing doesn’t bother you?” The curiosity was accompanied by a careful tilt of the woman’s head.

“Not really.” Warren shrugged. “King Aaron is good about dividing his time. We all get along for the most part too, so it’s never really felt like a competition. At least, not to me.”

Evelyn hummed, contemplating Warren for a moment. “I couldn’t do it. My husband and I didn’t marry for love, but I still couldn’t stand the thought of anyone attempting to replace me. We grew to love each other, in our own ways. Though I believe much of that came after we had our son. Children change everything. Especially for a man who loves children and happily looks to expand his line. It was a shame we could only have our son, but he was everything to us both. And I shuddered at the thought of some other woman stealing what I had earned, just because she could more easily bear children than I.”

Warren slowly nodded. He understood the concern. Aaron had never mentioned children, but surely, he would need an heir before long. Warren couldn’t provide that. He liked to think any woman who carried Aaron’s children could never take his place, but one never knew. Not for certain. Not until it happened.

Still, he couldn’t deny the thought of little ones was appealing to him. He might not get any of his own as a consort but he knew he could easily love Aaron’s. He could easily love Ivy’s or Asha’s children for that matter. They would simply become part of his odd and ever growing family.

“Oh, don’t worry dear.” Evelyn pat Warren’s shoulder gently. “Don’t let my prattling concern you. Aaron has always been a good boy, with a strong sense of kindness towards others. And you seem like a nice young man. I’m sure it will all be just fine for you. You seem much more assured of yourself than I was in my youth anyways.”

The familiar form of address for Aaron caught Warren’s attention and he eyed Evelyn sharply. “I’m sorry, Evelyn, but who is your son?”

“Mother?”

Aaron’s voice pulled their attention back down the tunnel.

“Mother, what are you doing here?” The king looked between Warren and Evelyn with confusion and something bordering on concern. Warren swallowed as he confirmed just who he had been talking to.

With a wide smile, Queen Mother Evelyn turned to meet Aaron, grasping his face in her hands to bring him down enough she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Aaron, my son. It’s so good to see you again. It’s been such a long time.”


	6. Gluttony and Temperance

Aaron glanced past his mother at Warren, looking for any signs of stress. Warren shot him a reassuring smile. Evelyn caught the look and chided.

“Oh, come now Aaron. I was just having a conversation with your lovely consort, not interrogating him.”

Warren nodded. “I was telling your mother her garden is beautiful.”

Evelyn grinned, and Warren was sure if he had seen that unguarded expression on her face before, he would have made the connection between mother and son instantly. She patted Aaron’s shoulder with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “I like this one Aaron. I’d like a few grandchildren as much as the next mother, but I quite like Warren.”

“Good. I quite like him too.” Evelyn chuckled. Aaron cocked his head. “You never answered my question, though. What are you doing here?”

Evelyn smiled despite noticing the tension that had crept into Aaron’s tone. “I always spend summers here. What are you doing here?”

“Honeymooning.”

“I hope you won’t find me an intrusion.”

Aaron glanced at Warren again, for what he wasn’t quite sure. Aaron finally sighed and shook his head. “I’m sure there’s enough room for all of us.” An uncomfortable silence reigned for a moment. Until Warren couldn’t take anymore and broke it.

“Did you need me for something? I thought you had headed down to the water.”

“We did. I noticed you and Asha had disappeared and thought I would check on you.” Aaron stepped away from his mother, grasping Warren and guiding him a little further away to murmur quietly. “Sorry. I had no idea she would be here. I can-”

Warren laid a finger against Aaron’s lips. “It’s fine, Aaron. We were just talking. It’s not like I’ve never dealt with in-laws before. And she actually seems to like me so I can handle it. You might want to warn the others though. And maybe advise Asha to behave.”

Aaron winced at that. Warren smiled and shooed him off.

“Go on. I can entertain your mother for a bit.” He got a grateful look, and Aaron leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth.

“You do seem to be charming her thoroughly. Thank you.” Warren hummed an agreement and smiled. Aaron turned back for his mother, kissing her cheek. “Behave yourself mother.”

“Of course, dear.”

“I’ll see you both at dinner, if not before.”

Evelyn sighed as they watched Aaron head back towards the house. Warren raised a brow when she turned her gaze back on him once the king was out of sight. “I believe you asked for help when I arrived. I’m afraid I don’t do much kneeling anymore, but I can still lend a hand if you need.”

Evelyn smiled, relaxing. “I think I’m done for today but thank you. I’d love some company for tea or lemonade?” Warren offered his arm and Evelyn slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He escorted her back to the house and into the kitchen, sitting when he was bade and letting Evelyn bustle about. She set out a pitcher of lemonade and some pound cake, sitting down while water boiled for tea. “I suppose you’re wondering why Aaron is so tense around me.”

Warren shrugged. “I wouldn’t presume to pry.”

“Well, as his spouse I should think you’re entitled to some of it. I’m afraid it’s mostly my fault anyways. You see, when my husband died, I just couldn’t bear to stay in Ravenrock. Too many memories to remind me of my grief. So I ran back to my home country in the Western Isles. I abandoned my son to deal with his own pain alone, with a crown to bear as well. I don’t believe he’ll ever forgive me for that.”

She traced a finger through the condensation building on the pitcher of lemonade, thoughtful for a moment.

“But he has you now. You two seem close, though the news of your wedding hasn’t grown cold yet. How long have you known each other?”

Warren swallowed the sip of lemonade he had taken. “Mid-winter is when we met. I was recently injured in the war. I thought my life was fairly well over but Aaron stepped in with everything I could have ever asked for. He brought me to the castle a few weeks later and we were married this spring.”

Evelyn nodded. “So, only half a year. And he’s utterly smitten with you. I would bet you’re his favorite, aren’t you? And be honest with me. I know my son would never intentionally make anyone feel left out or lesser, but surely you’re the one he loves best.”

Warren smirked, compulsively casting a glance and listening for anyone else about. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “I think I am.”

Evelyn smiled. She got up as the kettle began to make noise and called over her shoulder as she prepared tea. “And the other consorts? What are they like?”

“Ivy is lovely. Knows how to be firm when needed but just as soft a hand if she thinks that will work better. Daniel is a little younger than Aaron might have preferred, but the poor boy was about to be executed and Aaron didn’t want to see that happen. The boy is a shining ball of energy. Raven is… Raven used to be a priest in Iazane. I’ll admit, his induction was mostly my doing. He’s quiet, and doesn’t understand a lot of our customs, but he’s willing to learn. Asha… Asha means well, but the way she goes about it sometimes isn’t the best. I’m hoping she mellows out a bit here shortly.”

Evelyn brought the tea over, setting it out and taking some cake as she sat down again. “Five of you then. I’m sure I’ll meet you all here shortly.”

Warren nodded. “Yes. Most of us can be found together often enough. We’re just as much family to each other as we are to Aaron. I suppose that’s why Aaron got concerned when I wandered off, he’s used to not having to look far to find all five of us.”

“That sounds nice. Ravenrock was my home for many years, but it always felt like I was a stranger there. Some foreign woman in a political marriage to the king, only there to strengthen ties and carry a child. Perhaps I missed out, refusing to share my husband. It might have made me feel better if there were someone else there who was my equal.”

Warren chuckled. “I was, admittedly, relieved when Ivy was added to the consort quarters. Before her, I was the common born soldier, usurping my way into a position I didn’t deserve. Aaron, Caleb, and Tessa were the only ones who felt like friends. The nobility hated me and the staff treated me with a respectful detachment. I felt very much on my own until Ivy.”

Evelyn nodded knowingly. “Just so. And how is Caleb? And Tessa? The last time I was at Ravenrock, the girl was just a slip of a thing. Only ten, I think, and still so very much like her father.”

Warren easily talked with Evelyn for some time, until the kitchen staff began bustling in preparation for dinner. They moved to the parlor to continue chatting and were slowly joined by the king and the other consorts. Evelyn took a little time to get to know each of them while Aaron slid in next to Warren to whisper softly in his ear.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, Aaron. Everything is just fine.”

Aaron hummed, pleased. He pressed a kiss to Warren’s temple and refocused on the conversation until dinner.

“Warren.”

“Hnn.”

“Warren!”

“What?”

“Wake up! You’ve gotta come see this!”

Warren slowly raised his head out of his pillow, squinting at Daniel. The boy shook him again before bouncing off the bed they had been sharing and bolting for the doors that let out into a side courtyard outside their room. Sighing, Warren scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned, looking for Raven. The man was also gone from their bed.

Dragging himself to his feet, Warren crossed the room to join Daniel standing in the doorway. The sound and smell of rain reached him before he had made it a handful of steps, and he stopped behind Daniel in curiosity of what had so enamored the boy.

He had to admit, the sight was rather impressive.

The storm on the sea had turned it to a grey, roiling, maelstrom. The violent squall was almost frightening, and somehow off-set the calm control that Raven was exhibiting. The man had stripped to the waist, black inked wings across his back bare to the pelting rain as he danced. Confident moves and flowing steps were mesmerizing, but Warren got the feeling this ritual was not simply for enjoyment.

“Daniel,” Warren whispered. “I think this is private.”

Daniel cast a look over his shoulder, tone plaintive. “But he smiled at me when he caught me watchin’.”

Warren frowned. Raven’s face was serenely introspective as he turned and moved about the courtyard. Warren inhaled sharply when Daniel slipped out into the rain, tossing aside his shirt and falling into step with Raven. A soft smile pulling at Raven’s mouth for a moment stopped Warren from going out and dragging Daniel back. And a quick wink as they turned in the beginnings of synchronicity had Warren relaxing, folding his arms over his chest to lean in the doorway and watch.

When the ritual finally concluded, Warren turned to grab towels, stopping Raven and Daniel before they could track water all over the floor. He tossed one at Raven and used the other to vigorously dry Daniel’s hair. He glanced at Raven when the man dropped the towel away from his own face and hair.

“What was that?”

Raven smiled. “Praises for the blessings of heaven.”

“You could have told the fool boy to leave you alone.” Daniel huffed in irritation, but relaxed when Raven only laughed.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind the company.”

Daniel gave Warren a smug look before glancing back out at the rain as Warren continued drying him off. “All your blessings are ruinin’ our day at the shore, Raven. What are we supposed to do stuck inside all day?”

Warren chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

As it turned out, ‘something’ was not hard to come up with. A small library was stocked with a collection of fiction, as well as cards, dice, and a chess board. Ivy, Corinna, and Asha chattered away with Evelyn while they amused themselves with needlepoint projects. 

Tea and cakes shuffled the groups later that day, leaving Aaron entertaining Asha and Raven with tales of his time commanding in the war. Daniel and Ivy were complimenting each other musically while Corinna watched on, enraptured. Warren sat with Evelyn, quietly talking while Evelyn sketched his likeness out on paper. Warren politely declined looking at the product.

After dinner, there was another shuffle. Evelyn cornered Raven for an accounting of Iazane, as she had never ventured to his original homeland. Ivy and Corinna disappeared. Daniel challenged Asha to a game of chess and the two were soon arguing good-naturedly over the board. Aaron spirited Warren away to the bedroom, eager to devour the soldier.

Warren gasped in air as he was pushed back against the door, insatiable kisses pressing along every inch of skin available. A quick struggle had their tunics on the floor. Aaron dropped to his knees at Warren’s feet, dragging his trousers down and nipping across the curve of a hipbone.

“Gods, Aaron! I- Hmm! Aaron, please!”

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, love. Let me eat you up.”

Warren pressed a hand over his mouth, stifling the whine that climbed up his throat. His eyes rolled and he shuddered. Aaron’s hands cupped his arse, keeping him from folding to the floor as the king finished him off. They tumbled into bed, rolling and heaving like the storm outside their open balcony doors, with the same thunderous climax.

As the storm broke and the skies calmed, so did they, panting in the muggy air as their muscles trembled and cooled. Warren laughed breathlessly, still giddy from their exertions. Aaron pushed up onto his elbows, his eyes warm as he grinned. “Warren?”

“You love me,” Warren finished.

Aaron chuckled. “And you love me.”

“Very much.” He gasped as Aaron wrapped him up and rolled, dragging Warren on top of him. “Don’t tell me you still want more?”

“Maybe in a few more minutes.”

Warren huffed, leaning down to kiss Aaron and then whisper against his lips. “Glutton.” Aaron hummed, the soft smile on his face hardly disagreement.

“You could take me instead, if you like?” The surprised withdrawal only made Aaron grin all the wider. “Come now, Warren. You should know I don’t ask anything of my men I wouldn’t give myself. Don’t you?”

Flushing, Warren slowly nodded. “I just didn’t realize that carried into the bedroom.” He cocked his head. “How would I… I mean, if you don’t want me on my knees then how am I supposed to…” He hummed, eyes closing and finding it hard to concentrate as Aaron mouthed his way down Warren’s throat. “You’re not helping me think. Quite the opposite.”

Aaron’s laugh heated the skin over his shoulder. He rolled them again, putting Warren on his back and straddling his waist. A soft roll of his hips had Warren grinding up into Aaron’s arse. He let out a breath, planting his hands on either side of Warren’s shoulders to grind back. “This works for me.”

Warren licked his lips, gaze falling down to where they would join. His fingers pressed into the flesh of Aaron’s hip while his other hand caressed a thigh in a warm, full palmed slide. “I think I can…”

He trailed off, eyes fixing out the window by chance and brow furrowing. Off on the horizon, where water met sky and the last of the storm had yet to pass, an oddly shaped cloud followed the tossing waves. When he made out tattered sails he sat up, half unseating Aaron.

“Aaron.”

The king followed Warren’s gaze, out the window to the ship struggling out on the ocean just before it capsized. They were both out of bed in moments and pressing out onto the balcony, eyes straining to make out the scene. The ship could barely be made out, laying on her side and half sunk already. Lifeboats were in the water, but it was impossible to tell how many souls had managed to abandon the wreck.

They hurried to pull on clothes and Aaron called for his guards as they hurried out of the manor. A pair of boats were housed down on the shore, and Aaron had both launched to aide in rescues in short order. Warren slid in to help row, and they fought the choppy waters all the way to the drowning ship.

With the oars safely in the boat, Warren reached dangerously far over the edge, ignoring the painful pressure on his knee as he grasped the hand of the closest struggling body. A weak grip closed around his own and he hauled them in and over the side of the boat. The dead weight, helping hands dragging on the water-logged body, and his knee giving out had him toppling over backwards with a shivering woman on top of him.

Gasping and coughing, she clung to him as tightly as her taxed body could. Warren heaved himself into a sitting position, tucking the woman into himself and looking for other people out in the water.

As it turned out, they didn’t need both boats. They only managed to pull three living from the water. Another six were only pulled from their watery grave to be given a land burial. The shivering survivors were exhausted, but Aaron and Warren wouldn’t let them sleep just yet. Not until they could be warmed up and dried out a bit first, fearing to do any less would only have them slipping away into Death’s embrace.

When they pulled back onto shore, the rest of the manor had turned out to help. Evelyn directed the staff and the rest of the consorts as surely as any general, seeing that the survivors were ushered in to be cared for. She had the menfolk begin digging graves for those who hadn’t made it. Raven said a few words for the fallen, wishing them all speed into the gods embrace. Warren sent a sideways glance at him, smiling sadly at the concession made for their differing beliefs.

Then, tired and dirty, they returned to the manor to clean up and see how the survivors were doing. They found Evelyn had plied them with warm blankets and tea in front of a fire. The woman Warren had pulled out was still fighting sleep. The two men were slumped in their seats, breathing deep and even.

The woman looked up at Aaron and Warren as they entered, recognition crossing her face. “Thank you, for your assistance. We’d been fighting that storm for three days and nights. I’m sure we’d all have drowned if you hadn’t come out to get us.”

Aaron grimaced. “We must have only caught the edges of the storm here. It only rolled through this morning and was fairly mild. You’re lucky Warren has a sharp eye.”

The woman dipped her head towards Warren in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

Warren nodded back. “You should get some sleep. We can hear your tale in the morning.” The woman nodded and she was given a place to sleep along with her ship mates. The rest of the household gravitated back to bed as well. Aaron gave Warren a subtle tug, inviting him to share again the bed they had so abruptly abandoned. Warren’s frown prompted Aaron’s soft assurance that the mood was lost and they would only be sleeping, so he followed his king to bed.

The morning dawned clear in a mockery of the destruction of the night before. Chunks of ship and lifeless bodies had washed ashore, prompting another batch of graves dug and Daniel’s complete avoidance of the beach he had been so eager to explore. Warren hoped the shipwreck wouldn’t ruin the rest of the trip for the boy.

The woman introduced herself as Felicity. She was a merchant, though more inclined to trade routes on land than by sea. She looked like she worked hard for a living, muscles standing out in her shoulders and legs. Her blonde hair was braided down to her waist and her hands were callused.

The men were Thomas and Ben, average sailors who had been hired to take Felicity and four other merchants up the coast to see if trade negotiations could be made between the Western Isles and King Aaron’s northern neighbors. Evelyn offered her fellow countrymen passage back to the Western Isles with her when she left for home in a couple weeks. Felicity was undecided on how she would proceed after the ships sinking.

All three were allowed to stay at the manor as long as they needed.

The rest of the week was given over to salvaging as much of their honeymoon as they could. Aaron lamented to Warren a little at the steady course of bad luck, but Warren couldn’t say he was completely disappointed. They were making the best of things. And they were together, which was all he really cared about.

Once Aaron got to talking with Felicity in earnest, Warren recognized the mounting excitement in Aaron’s eyes. Felicity had an intimate knowledge of trade routes, supply and demand across Viamore and several of her surrounding kingdoms, as well as a handful of ideas on just how things could be improved for all involved in the mercantile business. She seemed eager for prosperity, but with a strong sense for calculated risk to reap the most reward. Aaron’s gaze strayed to Warren with a look that could only be described as hopeful. Warren rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond and genuine as he lifted his wine glass to the two of them in salute. Aaron grinned and turned back to Felicity eagerly.

A nightmare after their evening of drinking had Warren awake with a sharp inhale. Panic sang through him, paralyzing him. His labored breathing caught when fingers slid through his hair and Raven’s sleepy voice slurred behind him.

“It was a dream. Only a dream.”

He curled a little tighter around Daniel tucked into his chest, slowly calming. It had seemed so real. So horribly real. He had been lying in that medical tent again, helpless and dying. But King Aaron had never appeared. He had been left alone to die.

Deciding he would calm fully if he could just look in on Aaron, he crawled out of bed and padded down the hall. The jittery fear became ice cold panic as he turned the corner and halted. The guards that normally stood at Aaron’s door were slumped on the floor. Warren hurried forward, hands lifting the closest man’s head and finding warm blood. The bodies were still warm. Warren cursed, slamming through the doors and looking around.

The bed was tossed and empty. The king was gone.

Warren hurried out onto the balcony, casting a look around for anything amiss, hoping he would catch a lead. His teeth ground in rage as five men, dragging a sixth, hurried out to the road, mounting up. The sixth man, bound and gagged, turned a glance behind him and caught sight of Warren. Even in the dark, at this distance, Warren knew Aaron when he saw him.

The king was tossed over a horse and the kidnappers bolted down the road. Warren made note of which way, then slapped his hands against the railing as he turned back into the manor. He was dressed and armed in minutes. Another moment was spared to slip into Evelyn’s room and wake her. She attempted to scream when she woke up to him looming over her and he quickly clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle it.

“Shh, Evelyn. It’s me. It’s just me.”

She sat up, confused and defensive. “Warren! What are you doing?!”

“Aaron was just kidnapped.” Her sharp inhale had him hurrying on. “I’m going after him right now. I’m going to get him back. But I need you to keep everyone else here and safe.”

“Alright. Of course, I can do that. Go bring my son back.”

“Thank you.”

Then he was hurrying down to the stables, saddling his horse. Someone entering as he was finishing bridling his stallion caught his attention, and he tensed for a quick fight to insist whoever had followed him stay put. When Felicity stopped in the stall door dressed and armed, he raised a brow at her, not having expected her.

“You’re going after him alone?”

Warren nodded, cinching the girth one last time. “His guards were killed and I’m not waiting around for reinforcements from the castle.”

“I’ll come with you.” Warren turned a look on her and she set her jaw. “I know these roads. I know where people are most likely to stop or avoid. Can you say the same?”

Sighing, Warren gathered up the reins. “Can you ride?” She nodded. “Can you fight?” Another nod. “Saddle a horse. Quickly.” He hesitated, then raised his voice to carry through the stable. “How did you know he was gone?”

Felicity stuck her head around the corner of the stall. “Evelyn woke up Tom and Ben to help deal with the bodies. My room is right next to theirs and I’m a light sleeper.”

Warren slowly nodded and led his stallion from the stall.

Felicity had a horse saddled in a few minutes and they were mounted and riding out at a canter moments later. The pace would eat up distance without tiring their horses. Warren hoped they could catch up and a short scuffle would be the end of it.

The road followed the coast north. The sheer drop off on one side and rolling grasslands on the other reduced the worry that the kidnappers might turn off and Warren would miss it, but it appeared they had managed to get a good lead while Warren was preparing to go after them.

Dawn was breaking, and they had seen no sign of the kidnappers when Felicity pulled even with him and gestured ahead.

“The lighthouse. Stop there. The old man who keeps it spends just as much time watching the land as the sea. We might get a lead there.”

Warren nodded and reined his horse towards the lighthouse. A signpost warning against trespassing made a convenient place to tie his horse. He took the stairs a little too fast and loped as best as he was able around his limp to get across the narrow land bridge to the jutting rocks that based the lighthouse. The door was pounded on with the side of his fist, and he impatiently waited a minute before pounding again as hard as he could.

“Open! In the name of the king!”

His bellow was soon answered by the sound of a lock sliding away. The door creaked as it opened just enough for a weathered face to peek out.

“The name of the king you say?”

Warren nodded. “The king was kidnapped early this morning, and the rogues that took him came this way. Five men, on horseback, with the king bound along with them. Seen anything?”

The door opened wider and the man beckoned them inside. “I saw a group on horseback. They were headed farther north but I lost them over the ridge.” The man led the way up to the top of the lighthouse, handing over a spyglass and pointing north.

Warren peered through the glass, following the road as far as he could. Just as the man had said, the road continued along the ever steepening coast, going over a rise before falling out of sight. “What’s to the north?”

Felicity answered. “Frosthook is most likely where they went. The road turns inland too, but nobody goes to Meadow village if they don’t have to.” Warren’s questioning glance had her explaining. “Frosthook is a city of cut-throats. Bandits, pirates, rogues and brigands. There’s a handful of pirates who might be willing to pull off a kidnapping as high profile as this, but my best guess is the boss himself. They are ‘led’, if you want to call it that, by Thaddeus the Roach. The man has a hand in anything remotely criminally organized. He would want King Aaron. First for the infamy it would bring. Second for the king’s ransom. Third, King Aaron can order the Peacekeepers to pull out of Frosthook and then the Roach is free to be king of the city of scum.”

Frowning, Warren handed the glass back to the old man. “And Meadow village?”

She shrugged. “Village is being generous. It’s really a few huts that the shepherds and cattle-herders use when they rotate the grazing this way.”

“Abandoned huts sound like a good place to stash a hostage and lay low for a while to me.”

Felicity quickly shook her head. “Those Herders are not to be messed with. They fight off wolves and bears to keep their flocks safe on a regular basis and they’re just as territorial over their cabins. Squatters don’t typically make a reappearance if they dare spend a night. Frosthook natives all know to steer clear. Besides, I think the flocks have been rotated this way, or will be soon. The risk wouldn’t be worth it. Frosthook is our best bet.”

Warren nodded. “Let’s go.”

Back outside and mounted, they hurried along the road. Warren still found himself casting a quick look over the fork in the road, but there weren’t many signs anyone had headed inland. At all, much less recently.

The coast curved a bit, and the cliffsides slowly fell to meet the water’s edge. Built out from the shore, Frosthook was a sprawling city, dirty and reeking with all manner of filth. Warren and Felicity eased their mounts down to a trot as they approached the gates, then into a walk as they joined throngs of people bustling about.

Dismounting, they parted ways for a few minutes. Felicity went fishing for news. Warren watched the horses and traded a few coins for a couple hand pies. He handed one over when Felicity came back and they ate their meager breakfast while they talked.

“A party of five with a sixth bound and gagged came through not long ago. They were headed towards the wharfs by all accounts, but it wouldn’t be hard to divert before they got down to the shores.”

Warren frowned, stuffing the last bite of his pie in his mouth and licking his fingers clean. “You said there are Peacekeepers here. Are they trustworthy?”

“Most of them. That’s why the Roach wants them pulled out. He’s got some legitimate ‘clean’ businesses, but everyone knows those are just fronts to move whatever goods he’s got in the works. The Peacekeepers haven’t been able to catch enough evidence to shut him down and haul him off yet, but they’re a thorn in his side all the same.”

“So we could rally them for assistance? Without tipping anyone off that we’re coming?”

Felicity frowned, finishing off her pie and considering. “I don’t know that they would move unless we could give them proof. And I specifically didn’t mention who it was we’re looking for to keep rumors from exploding across Frosthook. With just the two of us, I figured you were counting on the element of surprise here?”

“On our own then,” Warren hummed. Despite the bad situation, Warren felt a feral grin sliding across his face and sticking there in morbid glee. “I guess Aaron was right. I’ve still got some use in me after all.”

Aaron winced as he was tossed to the floor. He got his legs under him to kneel, looking around at the assortment of vagabonds assembled. The leader of the men that had taken him snarled at the well-dressed man presiding over the room.

“You told me we were kidnapping a noblewoman, Roach! Not the bloody King of Viamore! This is well beyond our agreement!”

Aaron grit his teeth on the gag. They had been after his mother as a hostage. It was sheer dumb luck that he had been occupying the master bedroom instead. Despite the anger and cold disgust at this situation, it was a relief to him that he was here instead of his mother.

The man named Roach didn’t seem at all concerned by his cohort’s temper. He continued to gorge himself on the breakfast laid out before him, seemingly intent on finishing it all himself. His girth certainly suggested a life of excess. He dabbed at over large lips with a silk napkin. “And yet you don’t seem to have had much trouble with the task. What does it matter how blue his blood, Captain? You’ve done your task well, and you will be rewarded accordingly.”

The Captain scoffed, fingers smoothing his goatee as he shifted on his feet. The fingers of his other hand drummed against the hilt of his rapier. “No reward is worth the wrath that will come down on us because of this. And you can be sure, there will be wrath!” He reached up to lift the wide brimmed hat and smooth the dark hair beneath as he muttered. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken this job.”

Aaron nodded in agreement. Roach scowled at him.

“No one asked for your opinion, Your Majesty.”

Aaron huffed a sigh through his nose and mumbled something from behind his gag. Roach might not have wanted to hear him, but the Captain reached down and loosened the gag as gently and as quickly as possible. Aaron wet his lips.

“The Captain is correct. You’ve invited wrath down on your heads threefold… Roach, was it?” The man nodded and Aaron frowned. “Unfortunate.” He ignored the outrage. “Firstly, you killed my men. I would avenge them even without this kidnapping business. Second is the kidnapping itself, as you have damaged my pride and honor as a warrior. I simply cannot let this stand. Last, but certainly not least, you have assuredly pissed off my husband and he is already on his way here.”

Roach sneered. “Which husband? You seem to be collecting them up at quite the pace this year.”

Aaron had to grin, not at all embarrassed or ashamed. “All of them I would imagine. The priest is a bit of a pacifist, but he might surprise me. My youngest husband could assuredly sneak in and out of here a half dozen times before you knew he was in the city. But it’s the first one you really have to be worried about. Because don’t you dare doubt that he will carve a wide warpath through anyone and anything you put between him and me. And then may the gods have mercy on you, because he certainly won’t.”

Roach laughed, large belly jiggling with it and jowls shaking. “You expect me to be afraid of one man? He’s the one with the limp, isn’t he? The broken veteran you pitied enough to bring in as a pet and call him a husband. You think I should be worried about one damaged soldier, against my hundred men in fighting form?”

“Yes.”

And the deadly calm assurance with which Aaron said that one word stopped Roach’s laugher cold.

Warren found a place to stable the horses, deciding they would move more effectively on foot. A few enlightening conversations gave him enough information to do what he did best.

Strategize.

There weren’t many places to stable horses. It made tracking down where a batch of five had been rented for an evening easy. The stabler was a chatty fellow, especially after Warren greased his palm with a gold coin. They learned the horses had been rented by a Captain Solomon, one of the seven pirate lords and captain of the good ship Exploit. The Exploit had put in to port a week ago and there had been no rumors of her moving any time soon, which was unusual for the wanderlust filled Captain Solomon.

Warren thanked the man and they headed for the specified port. The Exploit languished at the docks, looking depressed somehow. Warren had never been particularly familiar with ships, but he imagined this one looked best at full sail out on the open sea. He limped up the gang plank with all the brazen certainty he could muster, trailing Felicity behind him.

Her soft warnings that he was trying to get them both killed were ignored.

A call went up that the Exploit was being boarded when he reached the halfway point, and by the time he was stepping onto the ship’s deck, he had a face full of first mate.

“You’ve got the wrong ship, mate. Turn around.”

Warren met the huge man’s gaze full on, not letting the head of height difference and extra muscle sheathed in dark skin intimidate him. “This is the Exploit. Captained by a man named Solomon. One of the seven pirate lords and wanderer of the seas. That all sound right to you?” The first mate scowled. Warren bared his teeth in a grin. “Then it looks like I’ve got exactly the ship I’m looking for. Especially if your captain took off on a little mission last night?”

The first mate’s hand drifted to his blade. “Who’s asking?”

“Tell Solomon, Prince Consort Warren is calling him out. He stole someone of mine, and I want them back.”

A ripple of discomfort went through the staring crew. The first mate swallowed, gaze sweeping down and back up as his fingers tightened around the hilt of his cutlass. “Captain Solomon isn’t back yet. We ain’t seen him since yesterday morn’.”

Warren darkened. “You lie.”

“He got called out by Roach! We ain’t seen him back yet.” Warren’s gaze shifted to the cabin boy that had piped up. The first mate rounded on the boy with a snarl to be quiet. The boy only pleaded more earnestly. “It’s been too long! Captain shoulda been back by now. Something’s wrong and we’ve got no way to know where to go after ‘im! We all know you’ve been thinkin’ on it!”

There was a smattering of agreement and suddenly Warren was mostly forgotten as the crew of the Exploit began rallying for tracking down a missing captain. Suggestions and calls for action flew thick until the first mate bellowed for silence. He got it immediately.

“I want to see the Captain returned just as much as you lot, but we’ve got no place to start lookin! No one gets in to see Roach without an invitation and he sure as hell ain’t gonna invite us! Unless one of you boys got some idea of where to start, we’re dead in the water.”

“What’s going on?”

Warren turned, and when his eyes lit on the handsome olive-skinned man everyone called Captain he saw red. He brushed past Felicity to catch the man by his collar and lifted. Captain Solomon choked in surprise. His crew advanced with swords drawn. Warren ignored it all.

“Where is he?! Aaron or Roach, I don’t care which. Speak!”

Captain Solomon’s dark eyes widened for a moment. Hands grasped at Warren, looking to subdue him. Warren wasn’t about to let that happen. He threw an elbow back to catch one pirate in the face and then threw a punch into Solomon’s nose. A splash below the gang plank told him someone was out of the fight for a bit. He swung Solomon around, putting him between the majority of his own men and Warren, then backed him up and onto his ship.

He flailed as Warren shoved him, staggering backwards. The pirates came on, swords drawn and ready to do battle. Warren’s sword hissed from its sheath and met the first charge. A crash of steel and a disarming move dealt with the first. A punch and parry opened the next up for the bite of his sword. Someone grabbed him from behind and Warren reversed his grip on his sword to plunge backwards, just shy of his own ribs. Then the one grabbing him was gone and he lurched forward to draw blood on the next unfortunate soul impeding him from his goal.

He carved his way through to Captain Solomon in a rage, blood rushing in his ears and steady hands quickly becoming drenched in red. He narrowly avoided attacking Felicity when she backed into him, having quite forgotten her. But at the reminder, he let her guard his back with a pair of daggers as he waded through to Solomon, grasping the captain by the throat and throwing him up against the cabin wall.

Solomon screamed to stop, barking orders to stand down. Back off and wait. Some removed part of Warren’s mind realized he was talking to his own men rather than Warren. It didn’t stop him from putting the edge of his blade to the captain’s throat and growling in his face.

“Tell me where Aaron is!”

“Alright! I’ll tell you! Gods, I’ll take you to him myself, just don’t kill any of my men! Please!”

Warren considered. “Take me to him, and I’ll not raise my blade to another of your men.”

Solomon let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

“Betray me, and I come back here to finish the job.”

The pirate froze at the threat, fear showing in his eyes. He shakily nodded. Warren allowed him a moment to check on his crew. Many sported wounds but no one was dead, nor were feared to become that way any time soon. Warren’s mad charge had been more about getting to Solomon than death. Anyone who had attempted to cross blades with him was wounded, however. Once the Captain had reassured himself, Warren hurried him off the Exploit and towards Aaron with all haste.

Solomon cast him a considering look as they slipped back into the city streets.

“What?”

The pirate flinched and averted his gaze. “He wasn’t kidding. I thought His Majesty was bluffing. Overstating your abilities as a scare tactic. He wasn’t.”

Warren clenched his teeth. Silence was heavy between them for a long moment before Solomon spoke quietly.

“If I had known Roach wanted me to kidnap the King of Viamore, I never would have done it.”

Scoffing, Warren hissed at the pirate’s back. “But some other noble was fine?”

“You don’t understand!” Solomon turned on him, anger on his face. Rage veiling the terror underneath. “Roach is not to be messed with! They call him Roach because he can’t be killed! Trust me, people have tried. He’s a filthy, disgusting excuse for a human being but he’s got so much money and influence he can ruin your life with a snap of his fingers. No one does shit in Frosthook that he doesn’t hear about and you’re fucked if he decides he doesn’t like it. Kidnapping is not the sort of work I find acceptable, but it was that or Roach threatened to open fire on the Exploit. Set the rest of the Pirate Lords on my home and family if I didn’t play his scapegoat. I had no choice!”

Warren raised a brow. “You always have a choice.” He tilted his head, considering when Solomon huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’re betraying him now. Why not when you found out you’d laid hands on King Aaron?”

Solomon swallowed. “I had to do something to save my crew. They are innocent in this. It was me Roach called on and me that led the party to kidnap the king, and I won’t hold them accountable for my sins. I can only hope that whatever the outcome of this, Roach won’t go after them for this betrayal. Hope that you might-” He stared at Warren for a moment, then shook his head and turned again. “This way.”

Warren fell back a step to walk even with Felicity. “Now is the time to run if you want.”

She gave him an incredulous expression. “Do you realize how deep over your head you are? Roach has over a hundred men in his employ, and a hundred more he can call on in a pinch. You’re one man! You’ll be killed before you can get close to Roach. For a war hero lauded for his tactics, you’re looking pretty damn insane where I stand.”

Warren smiled. “I’ve also won the title king-killer. That was pretty insane too, and yet I live to tell the tale.”

Felicity sighed. “I’ll remind you to tell me that story when this is over. Provided we’re both still alive at the end of this.”

“Like I said, now is the time to run. I imagine most merchants don’t look to fight outnumbered battles against criminal would-be kings, so I won’t begrudge you if you want out.” Warren met Felicity’s glare, not an ounce of judgement in his eyes. She sighed and shook her head.

“Have you actually got a plan here besides going in like a mad bull?”

Warren smiled, nodding. “Yes. I do.”

“Then I’m with you.”

He squeezed her shoulder in thanks, then returned his attention to the pirate lord pacing ahead of them. The man was motivated to keep his crew safe, but he had a good deal on the line from either side of this altercation. Warren expected Solomon to point them in the right direction and then run. Far and fast. So he wasn’t at all surprised when Solomon pulled up at the mouth of an alley and motioned down the darkened passage.

“Down that way. Make a right and the second left. You’ll find a brothel. The Scarlett Lady. I delivered His Majesty there at Roach’s request and then was given leave. It’s possible they’ve moved him since then, but I don’t know where they would go.”

“Good enough.” Warren didn’t bother with niceties. And Solomon didn’t expect any. They parted ways. Warren found the Scarlett Lady without trouble and pushed his way in. Scantily clad ladies and a couple effeminate boys gave coy smiles and beckoned. Warren ignored them all as he was approached by the lady of the house.

“Hello, good sir and lady. My name is Scarlett. What delights of the flesh can I tempt you with today?” Her red silk skirts swished around Warren’s feet as she pushed too close. Her makeup was thick and her perfume was overwhelming and the large bosom she tried to draw Warren’s eyes with didn’t distract him at all from his mission.

Warren eyed the woman, wondering if she was complicit or simply a bystander. “I’m looking for someone rather specific.”

“Of course! I have all sorts to please even the most decerning palettes. Where do your tastes lie?”

“King Aaron.”

The painted smile faltered, and Scarlett wasn’t quite easy enough to disguise her grasping. “A kingly look alike? Or perhaps you just like the dark hair and strong types?”

“No,” Warren provided in a warning tone. “I mean King Aaron. Monarch of Viamore and Ruler of the Western Lands. Regent of the Western Isles. The one and only son of Howard VI and Evelyn Barclay. The man Thaddeus Roach had kidnapped last night and brought here.”

Scarlett was incredibly pale. And it wasn’t all the makeup she was using to hide her wrinkles. She stuttered and whined and apologized until Warren put a warning hand on the hilt of his sword. Then she found her tongue.

“He’s not here. He was brought here but Roach left with him not long ago, I swear! You can search the place if you want but he’s not here.”

“Where did they go?”

“They probably went to Roach’s estate. He lives up on the hill. But you’ll never get past all his guards! It’s impossible to even get in the gates without Roach’s permission.”

Warren smiled and Scarlett looked a bit faint. “Lucky you don’t have to worry yourself about that then. Just give me directions and keep your pretty mouth shut, then we’ll have no quarrels, you and I.” Scarlett nodded so vigorously her wig started to slip. Warren considered her painted face for another moment, watching her squirm. “Actually, there’s one more thing you can do for me.”

He tugged his purse from his belt and upended the contents into her hands. Coins overflowed her cupped fingers and scattered across the floor.

Aaron shifted, watching the ship burning across the water. The manacles about his wrists rattled against the chains holding him back to the mast, but the noise wasn’t enough to block out the pained cries of the man being beaten to death. He had wanted to make a quip about crime not paying nearly enough when Captain Solomon had been dragged on board Roach’s ship. All he felt now was pity for the man.

Roach had made the man watch as his entire crew was slaughtered, and his ship set ablaze. Solomon had raged and threatened. Begged and pleaded. And finally shattered with a wail as everything was taken from him. The beating was unnecessary. The man was broken enough.

Aaron’s gaze drew away from the burning Exploit when Roach purred over Solomon’s battered body. “Where did you send the broken Prince? My spies saw you leaving your ship with him, but he wasn't with Scarlett when my men got there. She tells them he never came to her and they didn't find him when they searched the place, so where did you send him? I can still find ways to hurt you until you tell me.”

Whatever Solomon spat back wasn’t something Roach appreciated. He kicked the man in the ribs with a sneer. Solomon groaned, curling in on himself as much as he could with his arms bound tightly behind his back. Roach paced around the man, tutting at him.

“Most people attempt to remain on my good side. At the very least, they know not to betray me for as long as possible. I do believe you are the first to have turned against me before a full day has passed. What did he promise you? Gold and riches? A title? Perhaps a new ship? Seems you’ll need one now.”

Solomon shuddered, voice soft and defeated. “Nothing. He promised me nothing.”

Sighing, Roach considered the man bleeding on his deck. “Then why help him?”

“I hoped…” Solomon spat blood and licked his lips, whispering into the deck. “I hoped he could free everyone in Frosthook from you.”

Roach curled his lip, outrage coloring his face as his temper flared. Then with a shake of his head, he waved a hand and turned away. “Feed him to the sharks.”

Someone came over with a hook on a line, shoving Solomon onto his chest and sliding it under the ropes coiled around his chest and shoulders to keep his arms secure. The line was pulled taut, and Solomon was lifted into the air to swing erratically before he was swung out over the side of the ship. Aaron grit his teeth as Solomon dropped into the water with a splash.

Roach came over to lean against the mast next to Aaron, casually ignoring the ongoing torture as they hauled Solomon up for a breath, only to drop him again. “I must say, Your Majesty. When you told me your husband was already on the way, I assumed you were exaggerating. After all, most nobility knows to wait for a ransom letter and proceed from there.”

Aaron glared. “Warren isn’t like other nobility. He deals with things on his own and isn’t one to wait around for someone to tell him what to do. Which means you’re torturing that man for nothing, because Warren wouldn’t need a pirate captain to tell him you’re the most likely culprit to kidnap a king.”

Roach grinned, glancing over his shoulder to where they were hauling Solomon up above the side, coughing and dripping water. “Don’t tell me my treatment of the traitorous scum bothers you?” Aaron glanced at Solomon, the pirates broken and swelling face streaked with watered down blood and hanging limply. Then he met Roach’s cruel eyes again.

“Your entire existence bothers me.”

Roach laughed uproariously, drawing the attention of his crew. And then the laughter abruptly stopped as he whipped a hand up to crack across Aaron’s face. Aaron went with the strike, barely flinching at the pain. He licked at the blood in the corner of his mouth as he turned back to face Roach. The man seethed in Aaron’s face. “As much as this may surprise you, _your majesty_ , you have no power here. You are just as worthless and impotent to me as that pirate scum there. So I don’t care what bothers you and what doesn’t. I’m not here to bow and scrape to you. I’m the king here.”

“Then why am I here?” Aaron challenged quietly. “Why bother bringing me here in the first place?”

Roach gave a feral grin. “Because there are enough people in love with you that I can use you. You say your little soldier prince will wage war on me to get you back? After he’s battered against my forces uselessly, what will he be willing to give in exchange for you? Your kingdom, perhaps? And when my men bring him here in chains and string him up like the pirate there to feed to the fish, what will you be willing to give for his life? You see, I win no matter how this goes.”

Aaron sighed and shook his head. “You want more than you can stomach, Roach. No matter how this goes you think you have the winning hand. But no plot you can possibly come up with will provide a way around Warren’s wrath.”

“You’re insane. I know I said it already, but you’re insane. And yet somehow, your crazy idea worked.”

Warren grinned at Felicity, cleaning the blood from his sword. The mirth was short lived however, as a thorough investigation of Roach’s manor on the hill had provided no sign of Aaron or Roach. “Not my most dignified plan, I suppose. But effective.”

Felicity giggled. “But you looked so fetching in that dress. The green complimented your eyes. The lip rouge was a touch garish for your skin tone-”

“Yes, yes, very funny. Help me figure out where this cockroach is hiding so I can prove he can be killed. The insects are annoying, I’ll grant you, but they stay dead if you cut them into enough pieces.”

Sliding her knives away, Felicity strode across the ostentatious office to the massive desk. “Well, in my experience, most people with business affairs to keep track of maintain a journal or ledger of some sort. Something to keep their accounts straight and running smoothly.” She rifled through the desk and made a sound of triumph as she came up with a leather-bound journal. Laying it out on the desk, she quickly flicked through with the practiced eye of someone used to scanning accounts for specific entries.

“Roach doesn’t seem to do anything by halves,” she mused as she flipped through. “Surely he has another house. A main business with an office where he spends a good deal of time. Maybe a mistress he keeps and visits often…”

“Or a ship, perhaps?”

Felicity looked up at Warren’s called suggestion, finding him out on a balcony and peering through a spyglass. She pushed off the desk and went to join him. She didn’t need a look through the telescope mounted on the railing to see the ship burning at the docks. “Is that-?”

“The Exploit. Yes. Looks like we missed Roach by a hair’s breadth. And Captain Solomon is paying for it.” Warren abandoned the glass and hurried for the door, dodging and skipping over dead bodies all the way out the front gates.

The trip through the city streets is easy enough until they get down to the docks. People have gathered to watch the husk of the burning ship sink below the water. Or perhaps they’re watching the strange form of fishing going on. Warren grits his teeth at the sight of the charred and blackened bodies floating in the surf. His gaze lifts to the body swinging limply over the edge of the ship floating just beyond the docks.

As he watches, the line holding Captain Solomon aloft releases, dropping the man into the water. Warren pushes through people and strides out across the dock. He quickly discards his boots and shirt but refuses to give up his sword belt despite the weight and the fact that the water is hardly good for the blade. Then he’s diving into the water.

It’s an easy swim out to the ship. They hadn’t pulled out any farther than it took to bring the Exploit into range for their cannons to sink her. He reaches the hull and waits, looking up at the shivering line that Captain Solomon had been attached to. His hope that they’ve decided to stop trying to drown the man falls when the struggling man swings back into view.

He’s no longer simply bound around the chest. They’ve tied his feet together too, and wrapped him in chains. They mean to kill him this time. Warren sucks in a deep breath as the rope releases, dropping Solomon into the water to sink to the bottom of the bay. He dives after the man, kicking hard and grasping a handful of chain as Solomon descends.

Warren could probably drag Solomon up despite the chains, but he doesn’t know who’s watching over the side. The bottom of the bay isn’t far anyways. Just enough to feel the water pressure in his ears. He lets them sink as he seeks out the ends of the chains, calm and steady to preserve his lungful of air.

The pirate captain struggles and writhes in his bonds, but he goes still in shock when he feels Warren tugging at the chains. Thankfully, they haven’t been locked in place or otherwise complicated in their removal beyond untucking the ends to unwrap them. Warren grips a handful of the ropes around Solomon’s chest to drag him to the surface, angling towards the hull of Roach’s ship to hopefully avoid detection. Solomon gasps in a breath and stifles his coughing as Warren carefully cuts him free.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your life. What does it look like?”

Solomon stares, something haunted in his eyes. “Why?”

Warren licks his lips, tasting salt water. “Because I never meant for things to go this far. And to offer you a chance at revenge for your crew.” Steel enters Solomon’s eyes as he nods. Warren glances at Felicity as she swims up, sheathing his sword. The three of them are as ready as they’ll ever be, so he turns for the ship and quickly climbs the side of the hull. On deck with sword drawn, his eyes scan the men all staring at him in surprise.

When Solomon and Felicity climb over the side to flank him, blades are pulled by every man. Warren’s eyes fix on Roach, scowling where he stands next to a bound Aaron. Aaron almost looks smug. Warren readies his blade with a call of challenge.

“Roach! Prepare to die!”

Roach screams for his men to advance. Warren charges forward without hesitation. His blade swishes through the air, spraying sea water, then blood. A duck and a lean keep him out of range of two swinging blades, then a quick step has him sliding under a third slash as he cuts the knees out from under a man. He whirls, forcing his damaged leg to cooperate as he turns. He grabs a hand to force a strike to go past him and smashes the hilt of his sword into the back of the overbalanced man’s head. Tugging the blade from the slackened grip, Warren calls Solomon’s name before tossing him the pilfered blade.

Now armed, Warren lets Solomon and Felicity fade into the back of his mind as he refocuses on his only goal in this battle.

His eyes lift to find Roach and fix on the man as he deftly blocks an incoming strike. Another fighter comes in on his other side. Warren rotates his sword, disarming the one he blocked to turn and counter the second man. His blade slides through flesh, opening up guts to splatter across the deck. Another whipping turn of his blade and a throat is opened, spraying blood across Warren’s face. He ignores the warm spatters and sickly stench to refocus on Roach, gaining another couple steps towards the man.

Roach is beginning to shake in fear. His eyes bulge as Warren cuts a vicious path without hesitation or mercy. And when he makes a desperate attempt to stop Warren’s warpath by putting a knife to Aaron’s throat, he realizes his mistake.

Warren rears back and snaps forward, throwing his sword like a javelin. It’s not weighted for throwing. Certainly not meant to be used in such a way. But Warren is skilled enough it just barely works. Roach swings his knife out of reflex to stop the point from impaling him. The hilt whips around to smack him once before clattering to the deck, and that’s all the distraction Warren needs.

Charging in like an enraged bull, Warren slams Roach into the mast hard. The heavy collision would be enough to stun the man, but Warren isn’t done yet. He pivots, dragging Roach away from Aaron and around to crash down onto the deck. Warren straddles the heavy man’s girth and snaps his entire body into a punch, breaking Roach’s nose.

Roach yowls for help. Warren winds up for another punch. This one breaks Roach’s jaw. And as satisfying as it is, Warren’s attention is dragged back to the battle. He dives for his sword, snatching it up before rolling to his feet. His bare feet thud across the deck in a staccato beat before a flying leap smashes his knee into someone’s chest.

Thrust as he rises, parry as he twists, counter, rotate, swing, and dodge. He slits the throat of the man holding Felicity by her blonde braid and dances back towards Aaron to cover him and watch Solomon’s back as the pirate beats Roach to a bloody pulp. Three men come on at once, trying to flank him. Warren screams a battle cry and strides forward, working his sword in a flurry that’s more muscle memory and reflex than conscious thought.

The first two go down in a bloody heap, one after the other. The third makes a run for it. Warren takes three steps in pursuit, then whirls as he reconsiders. Striding back across the deck, he grasps up a handful of Aaron’s shirt as he leans in to mash their mouths together. His hips press up against Aaron’s and a feral grin slips across his face when he finds evidence of arousal. Teeth and tongues turn the affection just the right side of painful. Warren growls possessively when he finds the taste of blood on Aaron’s tongue, delving in deep to remove every last trace.

When they break apart, breathing hard and unwilling to separate any further than absolutely necessary, Aaron huskily whispers. “You got here fast.”

Warren jerks his head back to look at Aaron incredulously. “I was supposed to wait around?! Have a cup of tea and some breakfast first, maybe?! Gods, Aaron, you know me better than that!”

Aaron laughed, a touch hysterical but no less amused. He grinned when Warren affectionately butted their heads together. Eye to eye, Aaron studied the slowly calming soldier pressing against him. “You’re a mess.”

Warren’s brow furrowed, then he grinned, chuckling as he reached up to wipe at his face. Then at Aaron’s face where the lip rouge had smeared. He was sure the makeup he had been painted with to hide his burn scars had run all over the place after his swim. And the sweat and blood spatters didn’t help either.

“Warren?”

“Hmm?”

“If you could unchain me, I’d really like to hold you.”

Warren inhaled in realization and hurriedly cast about for the key to the manacles holding Aaron to the mast. As soon as the king was freed, Warren found himself enveloped. Held so tightly he didn’t think Aaron intended to ever let go. Warren couldn’t say he felt any different.


	7. Pride and Humility

The rest of the day is a blur. They pilfer Roach’s ship for enough coin to buy new clothes for Warren, who had ruined most of his, and Aaron, who had only been wearing a nightshirt when taken. Warren hesitates before they drop a long boat to row back to shore, eyeing Solomon kneeling next to Roach’s body and shaking uncontrollably. He sets a hand on the pirate’s shoulder and catches him in surprise when the man sags into him.

“I’ve got nothing left,” he rasps.

Warren grimaces as he takes a knee next to the trembling man, body weary. “I don’t think Roach is using this ship anymore.”

Solomon snarls at the unrecognizable mess that used to be Roach’s face. “I’d rather see it at the bottom of the ocean.” Warren shrugs.

“That works too.”

Solomon turns red rimmed eyes on Warren, then clenches his bloody hands into fists and leaps to his feet. Warren isn’t quite sure what Solomon does down below decks, but he hastens their rowing back to shore and watches with a feral smile as Roach’s ship explodes not ten minutes later. The pirate follows them mutely afterwards, silent and unobtrusive as Warren and Aaron get dressed.

They retrieve Warren and Felicity’s horses, then buy two more so no one is doubled up as Aaron and Solomon join them for the trip back.

Warren isn’t quite sure why Solomon is still along, but he’s got other things on his mind. Mainly getting Aaron into a bedroom and locking the door so they can burn through the relief at being together and unharmed. Warren is shaky with the high of escaping. The stress of it all is still singing through him when they make it back to the manor late that night and he has to put it _somewhere_.

Aaron doesn’t seem to mind as he gets slammed up against the door. Or forcibly undressed. Or even when they crash back against a vanity instead of the bed. Warren makes a reach for the side table, finding the oil and pressing it into Aaron’s hand. He shoves his trousers down to his ankles and leans back on the surface of the vanity, kicking one foot free to pull it up and hook on the edge of his improvised seat. Aaron makes a growl of want, oil spilling all across Warren’s stomach, groin, thighs, arse and the vanity. It probably goes on the floor too, but Warren is more focused on the way Aaron’s tongue is in his mouth and they’re groping for every inch of flesh.

A finger slips in and Warren gasps. Another slides in a little too soon but Warren bucks into it. He gasps, not able to find enough air as he fumbles to undo Aaron’s trousers. Aaron pants Warren’s name like a prayer. Like the sweetest praises to the gods. Hands around Warren’s hips urge him off the vanity and around, coaxing him to allow Aaron access.

He spreads his feet, looking back over his shoulder as he leans over to brace himself, watching Aaron line up to spear him. The breath leaves him in a rush as he’s impaled, his eyes closing and head dropping forward with a shiver. He groans Aaron’s name, desperation in his voice. But when he raises his head and opens his eyes, he flinches away to hide with a sharp protest.

“Shit, Aaron!”

Aaron leans over his back, hands warm and soothing, thrusts measured and ever so pleasurable. His voice husks against Warren’s nape between wet kisses. “It’s been long enough Warren. Look. Look at yourself. See yourself for how you truly are.”

Warren whines, shaking his head. A palm slides up his heaving chest, skimming over his collarbone before cupping his throat to tilt his chin up. Face him towards the mirror in front of him.

“Open your eyes Warren. If you can’t look at yourself then look at me. Look at how I see you.”

Shuddering, Warren slowly opens his eyes. His own green gaze catches him first, and he can’t help but notice the pink marks sweeping across his forehead above one eye. Another run of scarring curves below his eye, covering one cheekbone before skirting the majority of his cheek to sweep halfway down his jaw.

It’s not as garish as he had feared.

His eyes lift to meet Aaron’s in the mirror, and he gasps. The hooded gaze as Aaron stares at him is hungry. It’s lustful and burning with a passion Warren can’t quite fathom. It’s want. It’s love. It’s a possessive pride that could fill the ocean, because even if Warren can’t muster satisfaction in his appearance, Aaron has enough for them both and more.

“You’re beautiful.” Aaron whispers in his ear, eyes never leaving Warren’s in the mirror. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of wanting. You’re mine, Warren. Just as surely as I am yours. I wouldn’t change a thing about you because you’re perfect. Scars, limp and all. I don’t think you realize just the sort of thrill it gives me to watch you burning with rage. To know you can carve through a deck full of men without a single thought but not raise a finger against me. It’s intoxicating, the sort of vulnerability you show me, and only me.”

Warren can’t hold his gaze anymore. His head turns, and Aaron’s hand cupping his chin allows it. “Gods, Aaron. Fuck me.”

Aaron grins, his hips snapping just a little harder as he trails kisses along Warren’s jaw. “I am.”

Warren nods, feeling the warmth pooling in his groin and strangling it back to make it last. “Fuck me. Then let me fuck you.” Aaron’s whine of anticipation and the jerk Warren feels inside him tells him Aaron finds that idea more than acceptable, even before he moans out a plea.

“Oh, yes Warren, please.”

Aaron reaches under, intending to bring Warren off as well, but Warren stops him with a hand on his wrist. He can’t quite make words, but Aaron understands anyways. He grasps Warren by the hips instead, holding him steady as he picks out a pace that’s almost brutal. Warren can only let out hitching, punched out sounds of approval.

Aaron still notices when Warren’s leg begins to bother him and they part long enough to make a shuffle for the bed. Aaron lays Warren out, a delectable feast to be devoured. Warren tips his head back as Aaron mouths at his neck, and shivers when Aaron grinds down on him. Scooping up the oil that had drizzled across his stomach, he reaches to prep Aaron. Aaron groans, arching.

It’s different, opening up Aaron versus being stretched out himself, but Warren thinks it’s just as enjoyable. Aaron shivers and moans, bucks and quivers and pleads for more. And when Warren crooks his fingers just right, Aaron throws back his head as he comes. Warren watches, wide eyed and almost oblivious to the spend painting his chest.

“Fuck Aaron.”

Aaron drops his head down onto Warren’s shoulder, still shivery. “Yeah. Yes, just… Just give me a minute. Then you can.” He whimpers when Warren withdraws his fingers and sweeps his palm along the underside of Aaron’s length.

A soft laugh escapes Warren. “No, I mean, fuck Aaron that was incredible.” Aaron huffs and mouths against Warren’s shoulder.

“You’re pretty incredible yourself.”

Grinning, Warren drags Aaron up for a kiss and a continuation of their give and take.

Aaron wakes up late morning, blinking in the light. He turns and smiles at Warren, still sleeping heavily, face peaceful where it’s mashed into the pillow. Half rolling, Aaron presses a light kiss against a bare shoulder, tugging the covers up to keep him warm. Warren doesn’t even twitch, still exhausted from running all over Frosthook, traveling, fighting, and then their escapades in the bedroom last night.

Sliding out of bed, Aaron dresses and goes to find the rest of his family. They’re just finishing up breakfast, but everything is forgotten when he walks into the dining room. Daniel inhales in excitement as he bolts out of his seat and across the room. Aaron doesn’t see any intention of stopping, and braces just in time for the young man to leap into his arms. Arms and legs wrap around him tightly, and Aaron laughs as soft kisses are pressed into his neck.

“We missed you. We were so worried. Don’t ever do that again.”

Aaron hugs Daniel tight. “I will do my very best to never do that again. Just for you.” Daniel relaxes enough to put his feet back on the floor. He’s tugged aside by Ivy but doesn’t go far. Aaron can still feel his hand clenched in the back of his shirt as Ivy presses in tight for her own hug. And a little more. He blinks in surprise when Ivy kisses him full on the mouth, then flinches when she wags a finger in his face and scolds. But he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. He brushes away Ivy’s relieved tears and cups her face in his hands.

Raven Elias and Asha are a little more tentative about their affections, until Aaron easily brings them both in to embrace. The two of them easily make way for Evelyn, however. She hugs him and presses a kiss to his cheek, then scolds and makes him promise to be more careful, then drags him into another hug. Aaron chuckles.

He’s pressed to sit, and Raven brings him some breakfast. Between them, he and Felicity create an accounting of the adventure in Frosthook. Aaron notes Solomon sitting as far removed as he can be, but decides to deal with him later. The pirate lord has been silent as the grave ever since he was pulled away from Roach’s body, and Aaron hasn’t been able to figure out the motivation behind following them back to the manor.

For all he knows, the pirate is waiting for him to decide an appropriate execution for his crimes and carry it out.

He can’t honestly say what he’s going to do with the man. He resolves to talk it over with Warren first. Warren had more contact with Solomon, and saved him from drowning even knowing he was complicit in Aaron’s kidnapping. Perhaps the Prince Consort knows something about the pirate that Aaron doesn’t.

Aaron refocuses on Felicity as she recounts the sight of Warren dressed as a lady of the night. Asha howls with laughter and insists she’ll make him do it again just to see for herself. Evelyn huffs, scolding Asha for her volume, but looking no less amused as she shakes her head.

“That man. I had an inkling of his dedication for you, Aaron, but to think it would go so far. And took a whole house full of people, then a ship later. He must be quite skilled in battle.”

Aaron smiled, nodding. “I guess you didn’t hear about how I met him in the first place.”

Evelyn cocked her head curiously. “He told me you two met while he was injured but never went into more detail than that.”

“No. He wouldn’t.” Aaron smiled wanly, remembering his first sight of Warren. “I heard about him first. Heard about how he had rallied his unit into breaking rank and charging into an ambush set up to slaughter a thousand of my men. Twenty men against five hundred, and Warren had lived to tell the tale, along with three of his men. No one on the Iazane side had been left alive. Well, after that, I had to meet him.”

Evelyn nodded, eyes wide with fascination. “I can imagine. I would have wanted to meet him too.”

“So, I got to the camp where he was, put a halt on the orders to execute him for mutiny-”

“They wouldn’t!”

Aaron nodded at his mother’s outrage, fully agreeing. “I found him in the medical tent, flirting with Death. No one had any hope he would survive. I think some days, Warren didn’t even have hope. Some days, death might have been kinder than what he went through.” Aaron shivered, remembering some particularly agonized screams that had reached him all the way across camp. “Caleb did everything he could, but most of it was Warren’s pure stubbornness to survive.”

“And you.”

Aaron turned to look at Ivy, surprised at her contribution. She smiled back, kindly grateful.

“You gave him a reason to survive. He might have given up, but you offered him a way to keep fighting. Caleb told me Warren shouldn’t have made it. All that damage. But whatever you said to him when you offered him a place at your side was enough to keep him from giving up.”

Aaron swallowed around the lump in his throat. “He’s never told me that.”

Ivy laughed, not mocking at all, but a little incredulous. “Sure he has. You just didn’t understand. The same way you were telling him from the very beginning that you were falling in love with him and he didn’t understand until you didn’t give him up in Iazane. Honestly, you boys are hopeless.”

Daniel nodded in agreement. Aaron looked between them, then shook his head with a laugh. “Well, be sure to clue me in the next time he says something, and I don’t understand.”

Ivy just smiled. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. The two of you are getting much better about speaking each other’s language.”

A crash from the stairs had everyone turning to look and some of them out of their seats. Aaron was halfway across the dining room at the sound of Warren calling his name in a panic. Warren lurched into the doorway, wearing trousers hanging low across his hips where he had forgotten to button them and nothing else. Green eyes fixed on Aaron and Warren sagged in relief, almost hitting the floor before Aaron caught him.

“Gods, Aaron, don’t do that to me.” He clung tightly, shivering and unable to put weight on his damaged leg.

“Sorry love. I only meant to let you sleep, not scare you.”

Warren only hummed and let himself be picked up and carried. Aaron settled him in a seat and backed off to let everyone greet Warren the same way they had smothered him on his arrival in the dining room. Raven produced another plate of breakfast while Daniel whispered in Warren’s ear. The boy grinned when Warren flushed and deftly closed his trousers.

Evelyn thanked Warren profusely for saving Aaron and expressed her deepest pleasure at getting to know everyone.

Warren cocked his head, eyeing her. “You sound like you’re leaving.”

She nodded, a little sadly. “Yes. It’s about time I head back to the Western Isles. Until next summer anyways.”

Nodding, Warren speared some sausage as he casually said, “next summer come to the castle. We’d love to have you.”

Aaron fought a smile and lost the battle when his mother turned a hopeful glance at him. “Yes. We would.”

Evelyn nodded, relieved. “Thank you. I’ll consider it and let you know. Perhaps I’ll be a grandmother by then?” Warren snorted in amusement. Aaron’s smile froze. But he wished her well and promised they would see her off when she was ready. Aaron slid into a seat and watched Warren turn his attention to Felicity next.

“And what are your plans? Back on the open roads? No more sailing I hope.”

Felicity chuckled. “I’ll sail if I must. Perhaps I’ll accompany you back to Ravenrock. See how the trading is there and then make my decision.”

Warren hummed, nodding. His gaze became calculating when he turned to Solomon. “And you? Back to Frosthook? To Ravenrock with us? Somewhere else?”

Solomon looked up, slightly alarmed. Largely lost. “I- I don’t know.”

There was a long pause where they both considered each other. Then Warren nodded and turned back to his breakfast. “I’m sure we can help you figure it out.”

Evelyn set sail for the Western Isles that afternoon. Aaron and his consorts spent another couple days at the manor before getting on the road back to Ravenrock with Felicity and Solomon in tow. Felicity led the way down the road, easily chatting with Ivy, Corinna and Asha. Whatever they were talking about had Raven slowing his horse away from them.

He fell into pace with Aaron and Warren instead, furiously shaking his head when Warren asked him what had spooked him. Aaron cast a glance behind to where Daniel was coaxing Solomon into conversation.

“I think someone has a crush.”

Aaron turned back to where Warren was grinning knowingly. Aaron sighed, sending one last glance at the pair before facing forward again with a shake of his head. “The boy has a type, I’ll grant you.”

“Type?” Raven questioned.

Warren chuckled. “Daniel gravitates to older men. The more dangerous the better.”

“What exactly are we doing with him?” Warren raised a brow and Aaron clarified. “Solomon, not Daniel. I would have expected you to not care about what happened to him, but you seem to be oddly protective of him.”

Warren winced. “I feel responsible. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. He lost his crew and his ship because he helped me find you. His family and his home, gone because he was faced with the choice of Roach killing them all in punishment for betrayal, or me killing them in my desperation to find you.”

“You couldn’t have known Roach would kill them.”

“I did.” Warren shook his head, fingers tight around his reins. “I knew enough about Roach at that point to know that he would find out Solomon had helped me. I was hoping to run him down before he could go after Solomon, but I wasn’t fast enough. And Solomon’s crew paid for it. Because Roach knew that would hurt Solomon more than any torture he could devise.” Sighing, Warren peeked over his shoulder briefly. “Honestly, I’m half expecting Solomon to attempt to kill me.”

Aaron stiffened.

“Maybe I should talk to him then?” Raven offered. “At the very least, he probably needs a way to grieve even if he’s not interested in revenge.”

Warren shrugged. “You can certainly try.” Raven nodded but seemed content to wait until Daniel had left Solomon alone for a bit. They rode in companionable silence for a time until Warren caught Aaron’s eye. “You’ve been quiet.”

Aaron eyed the soldier for a long moment, considering. “I was just thinking. About something my mother said before she left.” Warren hummed in question. “About being a grandmother.”

He hadn’t been quite sure what to expect in reaction to that. The excited grin that spread across Warren’s face had been furthest from his predictions, however. The discomfort in his chest eased a bit, though his nerves certainly weren’t all gone.

“Oh? Looking to continue your line then? How many children were you intending to have, hmm?” His grin faded a little when he noticed Aaron’s lack of enthusiasm. “Do you not want children?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t been thinking on it while there was a war going on and then afterwards the possibility seemed…complicated.”

Warren frowned. “Complicated? How? It’s rather simple actually. For us men anyways. Do I need Caleb to explain this to you?” He chuckled when Aaron glared at him for the teasing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Talk to me then. How is it complicated?”

Aaron stared at Warren, not quite sure where the disconnect was here. A glance at Raven and he found a similar level of question aimed at him. No understanding or sympathy as to where Aaron was coming from. Aaron turned back to Warren, speaking slow and careful.

“You can’t have children.”

Warren blinked, speaking just as slow and careful back. “No. That’s because I’m a man.”

Aaron groaned in frustration. “I know you’re a man. We’re both men. Two men can’t have children so how do you propose we work this out?!”

Warren’s brow furrowed, then smoothed as his eyes widened in realization. “You think I’ll be upset.” A soft smile of affection crossed Warren’s face, his tone gentle. “Aaron, I’m not your only consort. I know I have to share you. I also know I’ve got a special place in your heart that no one can take from me. We’re a family. All of us. Not just me and you. Your children will be my children, even if I had absolutely nothing to do with their conception.”

The tension drained away, leaving Aaron a little light-headed. “I…didn’t think of it that way.”

“That’s why you made a tactician your consort,” Warren teased with a grin.

Aaron licked his lips, studying Warren carefully and finding not a single doubt or trace of strain. “Do you want children?” Aaron felt his stomach flip at the longing that filled Warren’s eyes.

“I want your children. Our children, in whatever way they come to be.”

A laugh escaped him, easing into this next chapter of their life with a much lighter heart than he had dared hope. “How many?”

Warren looked ahead, whistling loud to gain the ladies attention and calling at them. “Any of you ladies thought about having a little one any time soon?”

Asha twisted in her saddle in obvious excitement. Felicity laughed before calling back. “Maybe.” Ivy and Corinna glanced at each other before Ivy grinned and Corinna nodded with a flush.

Warren winked at Aaron. “Looks like three to start.” Aaron couldn’t help the laugh that erupted, long and loud.

Warren leaned over Raven, carefully making another pass with the straight razor. Raven had just finished doing him, so Warren was returning the favor. Raven let out a slow breath through his nose and spoke in a space where Warren wiped away shaving cream from the blade.

“I’m nervous.”

“I’m not that unsteady of a hand, am I?”

Raven stifled a grin until Warren pulled the blade from his flesh again. “Not you. Tomorrow.”

Warren hummed. “Well, in Ivy’s words, it’s the party afterwards that you really have to look forward to.” He smiled, squeezing Raven’s shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry. It’s all being taken care of. All you have to do is follow directions and smile.”

They went quiet for a minute while Warren finished up with the blade and wiped Raven’s face clean. Raven didn’t move from between Warren’s feet immediately, fingers tightly laced in his lap beneath the water of the hot spring.

“Warren, would you…?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you give me away? I think that’s how you say it here.”

Smiling, Warren leaned forward to wrap his arms around Raven’s shoulders and lean their heads together. “That’s how we say it here. And I would be honored.” He pressed a kiss to Raven’s temple and teased into his hair. “You might end up walking me down the aisle though, depending on how my leg is doing.”

Raven chuckled, leaning back into the embrace. “Well, maybe if I’m concentrated on keeping you upright, I’ll forget to fall over myself.”

“You’ll both be fine,” Daniel chided. “Gods, you’re worse than I was on my wedding day.” Daniel eyes Solomon next and then lightly steals the wineglass out of the man’s hand before he can drain it again. “No more for you, or else you’ll be hungover.”

Solomon scowls, but he’s had enough wine at this point he’s slumped into a sprawl and can’t work up much more irritation than that. And when Daniel pats his thigh with a smile and a “there’s a good boy, Sol,” before getting up to get out of the water, all protests are forgotten. Solomon notices Warren and Raven watching him with knowing smiles and clears his throat with a flush.

Warren flourishes the straight razor. “Need a shave too, Sol?”

Solomon scrubs a hand over the goatee he’s let get a little shaggy. “Not just an excuse to cut my throat is it?”

Warren shakes his head, huffing. “And get all that blood in the water?! No. If I wanted to kill you, I’d be sure to wait until I could make it look like an accident!”

Solomon frowns, then shrugs and stands. He makes unsteady progress across the pool as Raven clears the seat between Warren’s spread feet and sits heavily. He leans back into Warren’s lap and lets himself be vulnerable. The trust is humbling, somehow. Warren puts it out of his mind for the moment and focuses on tidying Solomon’s facial hair. He looks good with it, when it’s groomed, so Warren only intends to clean up the lines and trim it a bit.

He remains focused as Daniel comes back and curls into Raven’s side. The sound of the ladies coming in and hauling Aaron along with them doesn’t break his attention either. His only concession is a pause as bodies enter the water and the waves break against Solomon, jostling him. Warren notices Solomon giving him an appreciative look and smiles before putting blade to throat again.

“Spreading it out is less risky.”

“How so?”

“What if two of us go into labor on the same day? Caleb can only be in one place at a time, after all. Besides, I think a clear line of succession is best.”

“Warren, I hope you realize what you’ve started.” Aaron’s tone is disappointed, but his eyes sparkle with mirth when Warren glances up.

“I’m going to blame your mother,” Warren responds. The girls continue their conversation without acknowledgment of the banter.

“You don’t think the council will start complaining regardless? What is the hierarchy here? Ivy was a consort first, so do her children have more right to the throne than Asha’s, or mine? Even if they were born after?”

“Ivy’s situation is going to be unique anyways.”

“If Corinna’s and my wishes make our children illegitimate it doesn’t bother me, so long as they’re well taken care of. Does the council have the power to question legitimacy if you claim the children are yours? Or would they recognize Warren just as much as you?”

Warren paused, then pulled the blade away from Solomon’s face when his name came up in the topic of discussion. He cut in before Aaron could answer. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

Ivy gave him a lofty look, explaining succinctly. “I don’t want to bare children, but Corinna does. And it’s not unheard of for a maid in waiting to bear children for a barren queen, so she could have children ‘for me’. Which is what we want. But Corinna has a condition.”

Warren’s gaze shifted to Corinna, curious. The woman spoke softly, still more comfortable in the background rather than the center of attention. But Warren still recognized the statement of wants as a step forward.

“I fancy you more than I do His Majesty.” She paled a bit and hastened for an apology. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It’s not that you’re unattractive or unkind, I just-”

Aaron smiled, reassuring Corinna gently. “That’s quite alright, my lady. I’m not offended. Not at all.”

Ivy snapped her fingers in Warren’s face, breaking him out of his shock. He blinked and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I just, wasn’t expecting that.”

Sighing, Ivy shook her head, leaning into Corinna like she was imparting a secret but speaking no lower than usual. “I told you. The foolish man has damaged his pride so badly he refuses to see he’s still handsome. You’ll have to flatter him mercilessly before he gets it.”

Warren rolled his eyes at Ivy and got a grin for it. Corinna was still giving him a hopeful look though, which made something warm flutter in his stomach. He glanced at Aaron, curious. “Would you…?”

Aaron smiled warmly. “Your children are my children. In whatever way they came to conception.”

A giddy laugh bubbled in his chest. He grinned at Corinna, noting the anticipation in Ivy’s eyes. The evidence that she wanted this as well dissolved his last misgiving. “I’d like that. You just tell me when you’re ready.” Both women nodded at him and Warren could barely contain himself as he finished up trimming Solomon’s goatee.

The next morning brought the same sort of organized chaos that Warren had witnessed on his own wedding day. Tessa, Ivy and Corinna helped Felicity and Asha get ready. Warren and Daniel helped Raven and Solomon.

Warren inspected the rapier Solomon had been given to wear, admiring the workmanship before belting it around the man’s waist. He noticed the rigidity Solomon was holding himself with and raised a brow. “Nervous?”

“I kidnapped the king, and now he’s marrying me.”

Warren backed up a step. “Do you not want to do this? Now that I think about it, we just sort of assumed you knew what was happening and were alright with it. Did Aaron ever ask you if you wanted to marry him?”

Solomon bit his lip, hands trembling. “Aye, he cornered me and explained. Asked me proper like. I just, still can’t understand why.”

Standing straight and tall, Warren grasped Solomon’s shoulders and urged him to do the same. He smiled. “Because we see the good in you. You sacrificed more than should have been expected of you and we want to give something back. You can belong here, if you want. You can sail the seas for the rest of your life if you’d rather. Whatever you decide, we won’t turn you away whenever your winds blow you here. Aaron can find someone else to run his fledgling navy if that’s not actually something you want.”

Solomon managed a smile. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding. “Thank you.”

Warren grinned, straightening the red doublet Solomon was wearing and tightening the black sash with purple tassels around his waist. Judging Solomon ready, Warren turned to find how Raven was coming along. The Raven had been dressed in something similar to what he would have worn in Iazane. The robes were a bronze color, with black wings stitched into the back and down the voluminous sleeves. A black feathered tail trailed down to his heels. Warren hadn’t thought the purple sash around his waist would look good, but somehow it worked.

“Incredible Raven.”

Raven grinned, obviously quite pleased himself. “I didn’t expect King Aaron to put so much thought into all these details.” He flared the bladed fan that completed his ensemble and flourished it to test the balance before snapping it shut and tucking it into his sash.

“I think that man could figure out how to give you a crown of stars if you asked it of him.” Daniel chuckled, finishing belting his long knife against his thigh and swinging his capelet about his shoulders. He and Warren were wearing the same outfits they had worn to their own ceremony, not because King Aaron hadn’t wanted to give them something new, but because they liked the continuity of it all. And Warren appreciated not having to stand around for another fitting.

Daniel looked Warren up and down critically. “Speaking of crowns, where’s yours?”

Warren looked around for where he had placed it in the shuffle. He finally found it and placed it across his brow. “Better?” Daniel nodded decisively and laughed when Warren gave an exaggerated bow. “Alright then, let’s go check on the ladies.”

Asha and Felicity were both dressed in white, their flowing skirts and fitted bodices perfectly tailored to their forms. The hems were decorated with purple roses for both, but Asha had sprays of daffodils where Felicity had pink roses. Both had bouquets that matched the flowers in their dresses along with calla lilies and ivy. Asha wore a necklace of yellow topaz, citrine, and diamonds. Felicity wore strings of pink pearls with a large pink sapphire cut in a star shape.

Ivy was wearing her dress again, as well as her crown. She had done her hair up in an elegant twist this time, however, with her crown nestled in place. She gave the men an appraising look and, finding them acceptable, lead the charge down to the carriage that would take them all to the chapel.

Felicity’s father would be walking her down the aisle, but she was the only one that King Aaron had been able to find family for. Warren would be walking Raven. Ivy was walking Asha and Daniel was walking Solomon.

Warren had shared the story of how they had done vows the first time and all four had taken some time to work out some personal oaths to speak when it was time. The priest apparently remembered how vows had gone last time too, because he paused and didn’t look surprised when Raven started speaking without prompting. Aaron cast a quick look at Warren and Warren winked.

Aaron crowned all four new consorts, each silver crown decorated with colored gemstones in accordance to the colors worked into each of the new consorts outfits. Then Aaron presented the new Princes and Princesses, inviting everyone to bend the knee and pay homage. Warren bent to one knee, even knowing he was going to struggle getting back up. His personal comfort was less important than showing he respected his fellow consorts.

They took two carriages for the parade through the city afterward, so they wouldn’t be so cramped. Aaron rode with his new additions while Warren, Ivy and Daniel all rode together. The reception was another riotous event. Aaron danced with each of his new consorts in turn. Warren wasn’t terribly surprised when Aaron fetched him for a dance, and they turned around the floor until Warren needed a rest.

On his way back to the wedding table, he noticed Raven and Solomon out on a side balcony out of the way. Wondering why they were there instead of enjoying the party, Warren redirected to find out. He hadn’t quite made it to the doors when he realized there was a man with a pair of women also on the balcony, effectively cutting off reentry into the hall and not saying anything worth repeating.

All Warren needed to hear was that they found Raven’s Iazanian heritage contemptable and apparently someone knew Solomon had been a pirate up until recently, which was also a sin evidently. He stepped up close and cleared his throat loudly right after the words ‘Iazanian spy and his bilge rat’ had been uttered. All three jumped and he got a sharp shriek from one of the women before they turned to face him. Warren leaned casually in the doorway, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“The war is over, and Iazanian’s are our allies moving forward. Although, Lord Harker, I suppose all the way up there in the north, so removed from all the fighting, you might not have heard. As for Solomon there, he’s actually a Pirate Lord, one of only seven, which makes him at least the same rank as you even before King Aaron married him. Either way, both deserve your respect.”

The man blanched when he was called out by name. One of the ladies didn’t know how to bow out gracefully when the opportunity was gifted to her. “They deserve to be run out of this castle!”

Warren pushed out of his lean and took a menacing step forward. “I would be careful, were I you, Lady Marlow. Or need I remind you what happened to Lady Thrush when she dared commit treason?”

All three of them were pale by now, but Lady Marlow stuttered out a protest anyways. “I wasn’t- I haven’t done- I-”

Warren inclined his head in agreement. “No, you’re right. The punishment should fit the crime. Execution for treason. Castration for rape. So slander and hearsay should be…a loss of your tongue? Perhaps remove your ears, to remind you not to listen to rumors. Or take your eyes, so you are unable to judge anyone by how they look?”

“Warren.”

He glanced up when Raven said his name plaintively and noted the man was looking a little green. Subsiding, Warren gave them a bright smile as he backed off a step. “Ah, but the good Raven preaches forgiveness. Your feelings are your own, even if I feel they are unkind, so let us go our separate ways. Perhaps you should thank Raven for his kindness?”

Lady Marlow looked like she would rather do anything but. With a tension that threatened to break her, she turned and curtsied. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Her words were echoed quickly by the others and they made to retreat immediately after.

“Forgiven, but not forgotten,” Warren threatened lowly as they passed. He watched them skitter away, then limped his way out onto the balcony to lean on the railing between Raven and Solomon, taking weight off his leg for a minute. Night was falling, though the festivities showed no sign of slowing.

“You wouldn’t really have cut out their tongues, would you?” Raven’s meek question wasn’t funny, but Warren still snorted.

“Maybe, if they don’t stop coming after you.”

Raven shivered. Solomon shook his head. “You’re a terrifying man, Warren. If I hadn’t personally seen just how tender you can be with those you care about, I would have been forced to call you a blood thirsty killer.”

Warren made a face, not quite able to argue that assessment. And quite comfortable with it if he was honest. “To be fair, the list of people I care about is rather short.”

Raven put up fingers as he named people. “Aaron, Ivy and Daniel. Caleb and Tessa. You seem to like Evelyn, Asha, and Felicity well enough.”

Warren glanced between Raven and his fingers for a moment, expectantly. Then huffed when he realized Raven was being deliberately obtuse and reached over to flick up two more fingers. “You and Solomon.” He added one of his own now that Raven was out. “And I rather like Corinna.” He considered and added three more. “The last men in my company. I would lend them aide if ever they needed it. Fourteen then. Fourteen people I could never raise a hand against.”

Raven chuckled. “A decent sized family if you ask me.”

Solomon shifted, drawing Warren’s attention around. He jumped when Solomon suddenly pressed their lips together in a quick kiss. Blinking, Warren cocked his head and licked his lips as Solomon retreated. “What was that for?”

“For giving me a family again.”

Warren smiled, pushing himself up and off the railing. “Of course. Now help me back to my seat.” Solomon easily slipped under Warren’s arm and helped him back into the hall. Raven pulled his seat out for him and they settled in for conversation and wine. Warren did a quick scan of the hall, accounting for his family.

Aaron and Ivy were whirling around the dance floor. Daniel had been chasing siblings all night. Caleb and Tessa were talking with Felicity and her parents. Asha slid in to sit on the arm of Raven’s chair and flirt. He finally found Corinna hiding against a wall and beckoned her over. There weren’t any places to sit really, so he offered her his lap before realizing she might not take kindly to the offer. Her pretty smile and pink flush as she slipped across his legs relieved him.

He curled an arm around her back to keep her steady and smiled when she laid her hand atop his on her hip to lace their fingers together. The evening progressed easily after that, until Warren was warm and fuzzy from good wine and better company.

Soft lips and warm breath against his temple made him smile as Ivy coaxed a dozing Corinna out of Warren’s lap to take her to bed. Aaron came over, confusing Warren with his skittish wariness until he leaned down to whisper.

“I was going to take Asha back to my quarters with me, if that’s alright?”

Warren grinned, reaching up and tugging Aaron in for a deep kiss. “Have fun.” Aaron chuckled.

“I love you Warren.”

“I know. I love you too, Aaron. We’ll see you at breakfast.”

Late summer shifted to autumn. The harvest festivals were more bountiful than ever and Warren laughed as he explained the masked devils dancing around bonfires to Raven. Ivy found an impressive bird mask and delivered it to Raven with a grin. She and Warren could only watch in awe when Raven got drunk enough to strip to the waist and do a variation of his ‘blessings from the heavens’ dance in the mask. The sight defied description and drew quite the crowd to watch in stunned fascination.

Solomon cut a dashing figure in his mask too, enough that Warren wasn’t at all surprised when he caught Daniel wrapped around him in a darkened corner. He left them to that and let himself be drawn into a dance with Ivy, Corinna, Asha, and Felicity. Any one of the ladies were an enviable vision of beauty. Having all four of them whirling around him, a flurry of scarves and oiled flesh and strange masks in the flickering firelight, touching and kissing and whispering things he could barely make out…

Perhaps he should have expected his dreams to take a turn for the unusual.

He walked with Death. Over churned battlefields and across rivers of blood. They climbed a mountain of bodies and Warren looked over the edge, down into the black, never-ending abyss. “Why are we here?”

He turned, startling when he found Death too close, and retreated a step. His heart lurched in his chest as he started to fall backwards, until Death’s grip closed tight around his wrist to halt him, leaned too far back over the yawning chasm. Death chuckled.

“You flirt with me, and then tease as you run away. But that’s alright. I will patiently await your return to my side…” Death reached up to push back the shroud, revealing Aaron’s face. Warren’s eyes widened. His breath caught as Death leaned in, one hand still tight about Warren’s wrist while Death’s other arm slipped around and behind, cradling Warren’s back and cupping the back of his head.

Death kissed him, deep and involved, like a lover long lost and finally found. Warren gasped when his mouth was finally released, eyes catching on the smile that wasn’t quite right on Aaron’s face.

“I can wait, because I know you will greet me as a friend when you finally come to stay. Just as you have from the very beginning. You’ll come to my side, so I can let you go.”

Death let go. Warren plummeted backwards into the abyss, twisting and reaching for any way to stop his fall. Burial shrouds caressed him and tangled around him, though they seemed to be useless for catching himself. Screams echoed up and around him, until he was covering his ears, because that was all he could hear.

Someone was calling his name.

Someone was shaking him and telling him to stop screaming.

He woke in a panic and clutched tightly at whoever was in front of him, panting in the dark. He pressed in tight, feeling the steady heartbeat in a firm chest, using the familiar rhythm to calm. Ivy’s voice reached him from his bedroom doorway.

“Alright?”

Solomon answered, voice vibrating through the chest Warren was pressed into. “I think so.” Asha hummed a tune in his ear, her breath ghosting against the back of his neck. Someone was untangling his legs from the sheets, getting them straightened out and spread over him once more, then Daniel’s voice offered to fetch water.

Warren mutely shook his head. Solomon thanked the boy and assured him he had done enough if he wanted to go back to bed. Asha’s lullaby faded until she was slumped heavily against his back in sleep. Solomon’s fingers lightly slipped over skin where Warren’s shirt had ridden up across his back. The patterns he traced were too precise for him to be asleep.

“Sorry, for keeping you awake,” Warren whispered.

Solomon shook his head, chin scrubbing against Warren’s hair. “I couldn’t sleep either. You’re not the only one who gets nightmares.”

“Wanna do something then?”

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

Solomon rolled out of bed. Warren slid out after him. They half-dressed and crept through the castle, bare feet silent on the stone floors. The sword belts in their hands held tightly enough they wouldn’t jingle. Without a single sound, they slipped out into a courtyard and onto grass wet with dew.

Warren tossed aside belt and scabbard, moving easily into a stance. Solomon flourished his rapier and circled. The cool morning air was soon forgotten as they began to move, testing each other’s defenses and guard. Bare skin steamed and breath fogged as their sparring quickened, sending them whirling around the courtyard in a deadly dance.

Solomon dodged a strike that reached too far and tapped Warren across the back of his thighs. Warren huffed and pressed in hard enough Solomon was overwhelmed. He grinned as he touched the flat of his blade to Solomon’s ribs. Their tally stood at an even ten to ten when Solomon narrowed his eyes and smiled.

“Are you going easy on me?”

“I’d never.”

They traded blows in a quick exchange, finally stopping at a stale mate, Warren’s sword against Solomon’s throat and Solomon’s blade tip poised to slide up under Warren’s ribs.

“Because I’ve seen you fight, if you’ll recall. And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be doing this well.”

Warren shrugged. “Maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit.” They retreated, paused, then came on again. Solomon grunted as he turned aside a sharp thrust and stepped out of reach of a sweeping slash.

“Maybe you’re just afraid to hurt me.”

Taking that as the challenge it was, Warren came on hard, beating Solomon back until his rapier was battered from his grip to go flying across the courtyard and he was slammed onto his back. Warren placed the tip of his sword against Solomon’s throat and grinned down at him. “Was that what you were expecting?”

Solomon chuckled. “Something like that.”

Soft applause had both men looking up to where Aaron was watching them from a balcony in the early morning light, with Felicity tucked against his side. Grinning, Warren held his sword aloft in salute. Aaron chuckled, then nodded at something behind Warren to direct his gaze there. Warren turned to look.

Inhaling in surprise, he tossed his sword aside to avoid any unfortunate accidents as Corinna came crashing into him. He grunted as he toppled to the ground with Corinna on top of him. A soft noise of question escaped him when she kissed him. Another hum of surprise was pulled from him as Ivy came skidding in to kiss him too.

All questions were answered when Corinna pressed his hand to her stomach and murmured in his ear. “You’re going to be a father.”

Warren laughed, hugging both women to his chest and letting them smother him with kisses. He only laughed all the harder when Solomon leaned over him and said contemplatively, “ah, so that’s how to defeat you.”

Breakfast was a boisterous affair as Corinna delivered her happy news to the rest of the family. Congratulations were bestowed and excitement was heavy, to the point Warren almost missed Daniel’s bridled irritation aimed at Solomon. Solomon looked faintly apologetic, but firmly set in whatever stance that had earned the young man’s ire. Warren puzzled on it. A knowing smile tilted his mouth up when he thought he had it.

He stayed at the table as everyone began to disperse, watching Solomon pick at his food. Solomon finally realized he was being examined and jumped. Warren smirked.

“You refused to take him to bed last night, didn’t you?”

Solomon sighed. “Seemed like a stupid thing to do, being as he’s so young still, no matter how mature he acts, and I’ve got almost ten years on him. Wasn’t sure if King Aaron would take offense. Or worse, you.”

Warren chuckled, which eased some of the tension out of Solomon. “And he argued he’s old enough to make his own decisions, then got mad when you still refused.” Solomon nodded. Warren propped his chin on his fist, considering. “I’d say hold him off. Explain your reasoning. He won’t like it, but your feelings on the matter have just as much weight as his. Explain that to him too. And if the fool boy is still pining after you this time next year…” Warren shrugged. “I’d have no problem with it then. He lost interest in me and Aaron after a month or so each. I think he’s a little more serious about you but better not to rush and end up hurting in a few weeks. He’s still got lots of time.”

Solomon nodded, relaxing in his seat. “That was my thinking too.” A soft smile brightened his mood. “Thank you.”

Warren nodded, humming his satisfaction as he got to his feet to leave the breakfast table.

“Aaron stop pacing or I’ll have you wait outside!”

Warren smothered a grin as he trapped his lip between his teeth, trying not to look at the nervous king or the irked physician. Corinna giggled. Felicity beckoned Aaron over, patting the bed next to her and taking his hand when he finally settled. Aaron grumbled.

“I thought you girls were intending to _avoid_ going into labor at the same time.”

Caleb sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Babies come when they like, I’m afraid. And they just expect us to be ready for them.”

Ivy nodded, sending a scolding look at Warren. “Yes. It’s not our fault Warren’s little one is impatient.” Warren just shrugged. He had been a little nervous at first, but Caleb was as calm as ever, which helped. He would panic when the steady physician did and not before.

Besides, between Caleb’s skills, and the assistance of Ivy, Asha, and Tessa, it seemed Corinna and Felicity were in very good hands. And in the end, Warren’s son came easily into the world while Aaron’s daughter put up a fuss. But both children were happy and healthy, both mothers were ecstatic, if exhausted, and Aaron nor Warren could be any prouder.

The ladies all spent the night in the infirmary. Aaron and Warren had a celebratory drink with Daniel, Raven and Solomon in the consort quarters. The rest of the night was spent in Aaron’s bed, as the king reaffirmed just how much Warren was loved.

When they broke for a rest in between tumbles, Warren had to grin at Aaron as they both panted. “Are you going to be that nervous when Asha comes due in a couple months?”

“Maybe not. I know a little better what to expect now.”

Warren hummed and let his eyes close. His muscles twitched as his body cooled and he breathed a little easier. Enough that he could hear something other than rapid intakes and thudding heartbeats. He felt comfortable and warm and he never wanted to move.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“I have an offer for you. But you can’t tell anyone.”

Aaron pushed up onto his elbows to look down on Warren. Warren just smiled, eyes still closed and body relaxed. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Grow old with me, and I promise to never let you go.”

“Absolutely love.”


End file.
